


Forbidden Love: A Collection of Firsts

by Kenobicontent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bounty Hunters, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explosions, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Force Bonds, Force Visions, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mercenaries, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, On the Run, Pre-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, Protective Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn Needs a Hug, Romantic Fluff, Satine Kryze Needs a Hug, Suspence, Team Bonding, Violence, Young Love, fluff & humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenobicontent/pseuds/Kenobicontent
Summary: Whether it was fleeing for their lives, fighting off insurgents and mercenaries, or simply just trying to survive to see the light of another day, not even the Force could deny that Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze were meant for each other.(Or: a series of one shots following the duchess and Jedi’s journey falling in love, while featuring an amused and occasionally confused Qui-Gon.)*CHAPTER SIX: Jedi-jumping contests for food, Satine is impressed by her protectors, and two awkward teens are left in a cold cave together all alone.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Satine Kryze
Comments: 55
Kudos: 102





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so excited to start this story! Obitine is my all-time favorite ship in Star Wars, and they’re honestly such a joy to write! This story is going to be exciting, everyone, so strap yourselves in and prepare for quite a ride!

The tunnel was dark, Obi-Wan Kenobi thought glumly as he, his master, and the two Mandalorian guards ventured through the secret passageway of the Sundari Royal Palace. The air that hovered around them was thick and foggy, a dangerous result of the explosions and fires sweeping through the entirety of the kingdom. 

He didn’t like the dark very much.

They had been walking for several minutes now. The moment he and his master had discreetly landed their small ship in the middle of large, lush forest, they had been instantly spotted by the two Mandalorian guards, and after confirming their identity and mission, they were brought forth to the palace to collect the target.

Obi-Wan could not ignore the fact that he was incredibly anxious. After being informed by the Council just a few days ago that they deemed him ready for an extended mission, he had been showered with nothing but praise by his fellow Jedi and close friends. But, if he was truly being honest with himself, the boy believed he was nowhere near prepared for such a delicate assignment.

Force, he had only turned seventeen a month ago.

Obi-Wan really was very flattered by the Council’s trust in him. He had even overheard Masters Yoda and Windu discussing an early knighthood for him if the mission was a success. The boy really didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified after that discovery. 

He couldn’t imagine a time where he was no longer the apprentice of his master. 

The halt of footsteps in front of him jerked Obi-Wan back to the present. His blue-grey gaze darted up to the two Mandalorian guards standing in place as they murmured quietly amongst one another. A large staircase sat before them all, signaling that their journey had come to an end. Even with his extraordinary hearing ability, the boy deemed the guards’ conversation inaudible after nearly a full minute of attempting to decipher their muddled words and gave up with a sigh. 

_Patience, Padawan,_ Qui-Gon instructed him wisely through their bond.

Obi-Wan responded with a stiff nod and adjusted the hood over his head, frustrated that he had allowed his anxiety to trickle into the Force without realizing it.

Suddenly one of the guards abruptly turned to face the two Jedi. Had Obi-Wan been able to see through the helmet the man wore, he was certain the Mandalorian would have been glaring at them. Even after reassuring them of their identity and mission, the guards hadn’t warmed up to them very much. It was evident they were taking great care in knowing who to trust.

“Wait here,” one Mandalorian ordered them firmly before rapidly rushing up the staircase and disappearing in the darkness. Obi-Wan nodded absentmindedly, resisting the urge to fiddle with his Padawan-braid, instead tightly folding his hands within the depths of his robe as an alternative. He couldn’t recall the last time he was this restless.

The other guard studied the two Jedi through his helmet, his wariness radiating so brightly within the Force it was almost blinding. Obi-Wan attempted his very best at a calming, serene, and peaceful aura in hopes it would settle the Mandalorian down.

It didn’t at all.

The boy peeled his eyes away from the intimidating guard and focused on the comforting sight of his master instead. Qui-Gon, as usual, gave off the flawless impression of being absolutely calm and collected with ease. His features were relaxed, and his deep blue eyes had somewhat of a glint of slight amusement lingering in them. The real mystery was what in Force’s sake did his master find humorous at a time such as this? 

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

Mandalore was a warzone. Insurgents and mercenaries that didn’t agree with the duchess’ ways of peace were violently protesting, and their biggest way of capturing attention was kidnapping and murdering the young royal herself in public. However, they were beginning to become infuriated that they couldn’t get hold of the duchess since she was forced into hiding. So, as a substitute, they made it their top priority to wreak havoc upon the entirety of the kingdom, not caring who they injured or killed as long as it gained worldwide attention.

Realizing that the situation was finally spinning out of control, Mandalorian officials reached out to the Jedi and begged for their assistance. Unable to partake in the war as they were sworn to peacekeeping, the Jedi agreed to protect the duchess until the conflict was settled instead. 

And of course the Jedi had sent their most reliable team to complete the job, thus, which was why Obi-Wan couldn’t quite complain about that. He could, however, continuously doubt himself and worry that he wasn’t prepared for such a dangerous mission.

_We are simply hiding, Padawan. As long as we keep the duchess safe and away from the conflict, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about._

Obi-Wan wanted to agree. He really did. But much to his worry, his senses had been flooded with one of his ‘bad feelings’, and he wasn’t sure what to think of it. Qui-Gon always advised him to focus on the present and not dwell on the past or future, but how could he when he felt the pull of the unifying Force desperately trying to warn him of something that was vague but so clearly _there_?

_What if they send bounty hunters after us, Master? Will the mission be worrisome, then?_

Qui-Gon didn’t answer, but the expression he hurled Obi-Wan’s way was technically a silent message: _focus on the here and now._ The boy suppressed a sigh in response and let his gaze drift to his boots. 

_I understand, Master._

They stood in that tense, foggy cloud of silence for what seemed like an eternity when the almost unnoticeable sensation of three pairs of feet cautiously began making their way down the staircase. Obi-Wan lifted his blue-grey eyes up and found two Mandalorians and a small, slender hooded figure walking in between them. He looked toward his master’s direction and took notice that Qui-Gon was thinking the same thing.

The target had arrived.

The threesome made their way to the Jedi and observed them silently. Unable to decipher the expressions on the two Mandalorian guards’ faces due to their helmets, Obi-Wan focused his attention on the frame of who clearly had to be the duchess. Her features were also concealed within the depths of the dark hood draped over her head, but the boy quickly took notice of her bright, captivating, sky blue eyes. They almost seemed to glow in the shadows of the tunnel.

Suddenly, the guard standing to the cloaked figure’s right cleared his throat, resulting in all eyes darting over to him. “Jedi, allow us to introduce you to the one and only—the Duchess Satine of Kalevala.” He gestured elegantly to the young woman beside him as he spoke, a quick wave of his hand abruptly turning all gazes away from him and to the royal instead.

Obi-Wan studied her closely. Her head and chin were lifted high in confidence, and her posture was rim-rod, her dark robe emphasizing her lean and slender frame. It was evident that she was indeed tall, but next to her guards, she was dwarf sized. In one arm, she clutched her satchel to her side so authoritatively the Mandalorians would most likely feel intimidated to offer to take it from her grasp.

But her _eyes_.

The boy saw them glistening, a clear sign that she was fighting to keep her tears at bay. Those bright blue orbs were flooded with so many emotions: fear, horror, doubt, grief, helplessness, and countless more. He wondered for a brief moment how much the young duchess had gone through; would she be internally broken with no hope of repair? 

Force, Obi-Wan prayed not.

“It is an honor to serve you, Duchess,” Qui-Gon spoke kindly and respectfully as he gave a humble dip of his head, sending his Padawan a nudge through their bond to cue him to follow his actions. “Rest assured, you will be well protected under our care.”

“I am indebted to you, Master Jedi,” the duchess replied. Her voice was slightly accented and delicate, but there was a partially hidden firmness beneath it that spoke of a much harsher tone being released if needed so. She was the leader of Mandalore, after all, Obi-Wan mused.

“Nonsense, Duchess,” His master assured her gently. “Our mission is to protect you with our lives, and we intend on doing so in every way. Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this—” he gestured to his Padawan standing silently at his side. “Is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He has also been tasked with the mission of protecting you alongside me.”

“Duchess.” Obi-Wan nodded graciously, careful to keep his voice aloof and professional. Qui-Gon had advised him earlier that they didn’t have a clue as to how the young royal would treat them upon the first meeting—whether it was hysteria, anger, or even disdain—so he was prepared for anything. 

Luckily, the duchess expressed nothing of the sort. She didn’t offer any words in return, but Obi-Wan caught the silent welcome within her eyes and internally appreciated it. Sometimes, when people learned that he was simply a Padawan learner and not a full fledged Jedi yet, their trust in him deflated almost instantly as they immediately deemed him incapable. The boy, however, always proved them wrong in the end, but he couldn’t deny that it was still extremely frustrating to be treated like a _child_.

But to his relief, the duchess didn’t appear to be among that cluster of small minded people.

“You’d best leave. _Now_ ,” One Mandalorian guard spoke up urgently, cutting through the long silence. “She is being searched for as we speak, and it shouldn’t take long before the enemy finds the secret passageway. They’ve already nearly infiltrated the palace.”

“Understood.” Qui-Gon reached for the duchess’ satchel in an offer to take it off her hands, but she determinedly shook her head and stated that she could hold her own. Obi-Wan felt a slight smirk tugging at his lips at her clear independence but pushed it away, forcing his aura to remain impassive.

If the duchess caught him stifling a chuckle to himself there was no doubt even more tension would arise.

“Stay safe, _evaar’la solus_ ,” another guard told her quietly, resulting in the young royal to turn and face him. “We will do our best to ensure that Mandalore will be safe for you to return to as soon as possible.”

“I will hold you to your word.” The duchess placed one hand atop the guard’s armor covered wrist, and Obi-Wan sensed her smile. He also caught sight of her pale skin that was as white as snow, giving off an eerie yet beautiful glow of a ghost in the darkness. The Mandalorian’s presence within the Force softened at the young royal’s touch, and his head slightly tilted to the side, clearly in adoration.

The duchess then stepped away from her cluster of guards and made her way over to Qui-Gon’s side, satchel held tightly in her grasp. She inhaled deeply, holding the breath in for what seemed like a lifetime before releasing a shaky exhale. Her blue gaze was glued to the sight of her boots for a long moment when it suddenly shifted to the three guards standing before her attentively. Her posture visibly straightened before she spoke again.

 _“Vercopa,”_ was all she stated.

The Mandalorians simultaneously bowed their heads in respect before placing their gloved fists over their hearts, beating them firmly against the metal armor. The sound echoed off the stone walls and carried down the tunnel hauntingly, filling the long quietude. 

_“Vercopa,”_ all three responded in unison, their voices so alike they nearly joined into one.

Obi-Wan ached to know what they were saying, but he didn’t have a clue. It was evident they were communicating in their native language: _Mando’a._ The boy had only heard the rare dialect be spoken a few times on Coruscant and even on missions, but he had quickly come to the conclusion that it was a very beautiful language and that he most definitely wished to learn it.

Perhaps the duchess herself could give him a few pointers. 

Then, before Obi-Wan knew it, the guards had deserted them and sent the threesome on their way. The journey through the tunnel was agonizingly long and painfully silent. Even Qui-Gon, who had a usual tendency to thaw the thickness in the air when it was necessary, was uncharacteristically quiet. The duchess trained her gaze on the ground, refusing to look up no matter how many times the boy snuck a sideways glance at her in concern. 

She must have been traumatized.

When the trio finally emerged from within underground, nothing but the dense forest surrounded them. The sun was absent from view, clearly having setted a while back, and the air was thick, a large fog enshrouding them. Obi-Wan lifted a hand up to his mouth and swallowed down the urge to cough harshly into his sleeve; the air _reeked_ of smoke.

And judging by the way the duchess awkwardly cleared her throat and sniffled, it was clear she smelled it as well. 

“Smoke from the fires,” Qui-Gon explained to the young royal after sensing her silent question through the Force, waving the two youths toward the direction of their ship a good distance away. “They must be getting bigger if the air carried it all the way out here.”

The duchess didn’t reply, but her sigh was audible and made something within Obi-Wan’s heart stir. A long, wavy lock of blonde hair then suddenly escaped from within the depths of her hood, and she absentmindedly brushed it back, sky blue gaze carefully blank and empty, showing no room for vulnerability.

When they finally reached their ship and were safely inside, Qui-Gon led the way to the cockpit and slumped in the pilot’s seat with a relieved sigh. Obi-Wan stood professionally under the doorway, hands behind his back, and the duchess leaned back against the wall as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, the strap of her satchel protectively slung around her shoulder. Her face was still concealed from within her hood, and it was then when the boy wondered if she would ever take it off and reveal herself.

He had completely forgotten that he had failed to remove his own hood as well until Qui-Gon suddenly had a moment of clarity and threw his back with a soft chuckle. The sight of his master’s kind, deep blue eyes and gentle smile seemed to ease some of the tension forced into the duchess’ posture, and she visibly relaxed, much to Obi-Wan’s relief.

“This is where we’ll be staying in the meantime,” Qui-Gon informed the young royal, gesturing around to the cockpit casually. “We’ll change locations every few days just to keep the enemy off our tracks, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Do you understand, Duchess?”

“Certainly,” the young royal replied quietly, bright blue eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. Then, almost in disappointment, she commented, “It’s rather small, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan instantly felt his nostrils flare in irritation, but he kept his mouth sealed shut. He slightly turned his head toward his master to gauge his reaction, and judging by the way the elder Jedi’s eyebrows warily raised in surprise, Qui-Gon was just as taken aback by the duchess’ behavior as his Padawan as, but he hid it much more expertly. The boy wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself.

“I suppose it is, but in the end, it’s all for the best.” Qui-Gon’s features lit up with a bright smile, but it was evident to Obi-Wan that it was much more forced this time. “If the ship were larger, the chances of us being spotted by the enemy would be much bigger.”

The duchess nodded in understanding, but it was slow, a clear sign that she still didn’t quite agree or was simply disappointed, the boy couldn’t tell which. Nevertheless, the gesture spiked another surge of agitation to course through his body, and he flinched in an effort to keep it from entering upon his face. _Force_ , he hoped the duchess wouldn’t end up being a rotten, petty, and _spoiled_ pain in the—

“Padawan, why don’t you escort the duchess to her quarters?” Qui-Gon’s voice jerked Obi-Wan back to the present, and he looked up, flustered. “I’m sure the day has been long for her and that she’d like to rest.”

“Yes, Master.” The boy nodded obediently, waving for the young royal to follow him out of the doorway, which she did without any arguments, much to his relief. The two then strided down the dimmed, cramped hallway, lapsing into an extremely uncomfortable silence along the way.

When they arrived at the duchess’ assigned quarters a few short moments later, Obi-Wan typed the combination code into the keypad and waved her inside. She trailed after him hesitantly and scanned her surroundings observantly. The boy neatly placed his hands behind his back—he seemed to have a habit of doing that a lot lately—and gestured toward the bed with a shallow dip of his head. Taking the hint, the young royal made her way over to it and set her satchel atop the soft covers, staring at him expectantly after that.

“These will be your quarters for the time being,” Obi-Wan said, fighting the stuttering that threatened to make its way into his voice. “They’re small, but manageable.” At the duchess’ feeble nod, he added hesitantly, “Is there anything else you need or would like to request?”

“An extra blanket would be nice,” the young royal replied softly, gently seating herself on the edge of her bed, folding her hands delicately in her lap. “It’s a bit chilly in here, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan gave his own dip of his head, so shallow it was almost to himself and spun on his heel and exited the quarters, throwing an ‘of course’ over his shoulder while he went to retrieve the duchess’ request. When he found himself facing the door of the supply closet and grabbed the softest, largest blanket he could find, he was just about to round the corner when he bumped straight into his master, their heads making a harsh _thump_ as they collided.

“ _Force_ , Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose achingly. “Would you care to explain to me why you were moving so fast?”

“Forgive me, Master.” Obi-Wan was massaging his own head, already feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. “I didn’t sense you coming.”

The elder Jedi already seemed to have moved past it. He crossed his arms and fixed the boy with an amused smile. “Your master is getting on in his age, my young Padawan. You should be more careful next time if you want him to live a bit longer and not be incapacitated with a concussion only a day into the mission.”

Obi-Wan fought the urge to roll his eyes and settled with a smirk instead. “I’ll bear that in mind, thank you very much.” Then, adding unenthusiastically, “And I’m not _that_ young anymore, Master.”

“Seventeen is still _very much_ freshly of age, Padawan,” Qui-Gon informed him matter-of-factly with a chuckle, breaking into a full laugh at the boy’s huff in irritation. “Whether you like it or not, you are still considered a minor until you turn twenty-one.”

“Don’t remind me,” Obi-Wan sighed and made to head back to the duchess’ quarters before turning back, a question lingering on the tip of his tongue—

“Yes, we are having dinner in the cockpit once you return,” Qui-Gon answered happily. “Do invite the duchess as well if she’d like.”

The boy smiled, his failure at keeping his thoughts from trickling across their Force bond not bothering him that much this time. “Yes, Master.”

“And take off that hood,” the elder Jedi called when his Padawan was already halfway down the hall. “You look like a burglar in the dark on his way to murder someone. If the duchess isn’t already intimidated by you, she definitely will be if you keep that thing on.”

“Something tells me that the duchess isn’t intimidated by _anyone_ ,” Obi-Wan replied, glad his back was to his master so Qui-Gon couldn’t see the grin blooming across his face. Then, as he threw back his hood rather dramatically just for the sake of it, he added smartly, “Not even _you_.”

He was too far away to catch Qui-Gon’s reply, but another part of him also chose to simply ignore it. He almost even forgot to wipe the infectious smile off his face upon entering the duchess’ quarters as well but luckily pulled off his stoic, Jedi-like mask just in the nick of time. When the boy stepped inside her rooms, found the young royal standing with her back to him while she pulled clothes from her suitcase, he then froze in place when she abruptly spun around and revealed herself to him, her cloak now lazily discarded on the bed.

She was beautiful, Obi-Wan realized instantly, all fine-boned with pale, creamy skin. Her eyes were large and almond shaped, their sky blue irises shining bright within the dimness of the room. The long, wavy blonde locks he had spotted earlier now effortlessly rained down her shoulders like a waterfall, each curl gracefully intertwining with the other. She was tall and slender, her trousers and somehow-sophisticated vest outlining her smooth curves. Her lips were full and pursed together thoughtfully when Obi-Wan suddenly took notice that she was studying him as well.

It took everything inside of him to resist the blood rushing to his cheeks as he desperately fought the urge to blush in embarrassment.

The duchess was so much younger than he expected. She couldn’t possibly have been a day over eighteen. When she was concealed by her cloak, it most definitely hid her youthful appearance, making her seem years older than she truly was. Upon meeting her a short while earlier, Obi-Wan had just naturally assumed that she was in her mid to late twenties.

How he had been mistaken.

The boy watched her sky blue gaze carefully trail down his body and fought the urge to flush again. Her expression was carefully crafted into a state of pure blankness, but it was evident she was soaking the sight of her newly-assigned protector in. Obi-Wan’s jumbled brain spewed to life as he pondered every single possible opinion she could be thinking to herself.

Then their eyes met.

And this time, the boy had no control over his body. He felt the heat instantly rush to his cheeks before he could even process it. Luckily, the duchess seemed to be in the same boat, her own flush staining her skin a pretty pink.

Obi-Wan then acted before the moment could become even more painfully awkward.

“Here.” He quickly handed the young royal her blanket, and she seemed a bit flustered at his sudden movements but accepted it with a short nod. “This should keep you comfortable in the meantime, but let me know if you need something warmer.”

The duchess cracked a small smile and nodded, but it was taut, her head almost appearing mechanical as it bobbed up and down. Obi-Wan realized this would be the perfect time to excuse himself and then hit his head upside a wall in humiliation when he asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Duchess?”

“I think that should be all,” she answered, sounding truthful. Then, with a slight upward tug of her lips, she added softly, “Thank you for the blanket.”

“Of course, Duchess.” Obi-Wan began making his way to the door, then with a flash remembered Qui-Gon’s request and rapidly spun around before he decided to go against it. “Also, my master and I will be having dinner in the cockpit shortly, if you’d like to join us?”

“I thank you for the offer, but I’m quite tired,” the young royal admitted, absently brushing a stray curl from her face. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

Of course she hadn’t. She had been so busy with the war—Obi-Wan had definitely been there himself. There had been occasions where he hadn’t eaten in days during his time on the war-torn planet of Melida/Daan. Most of the time he wasn’t even hungry anyway; he had seen too much, witnessed too many sights of the Young gasping for their final breaths, heard the sickening wails of the children at the discovery of losing their loved ones, the lifelessness in their glassy eyes when their broken, battered bodies no longer had the means to go on—

Obi-Wan abruptly detached himself from the painful memories and focused on the situation at hand. The _point_ was, he thought to himself, that he understood what the duchess was going through on _some_ sort of level. 

“Well, if you happen to change your mind…” he began.

The duchess nodded again, clearly having understood. “Of course,” she said distractedly, seemingly having been lost in her own thoughts as well. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

After bidding a polite ‘goodnight’, Obi-Wan was on his way to the cockpit, stomach already growling hungrily at the mere thought of dinner, desperately trying to push the memories of his terribly awkward encounter with the duchess far from within his mind.   
  


* * *

  
Only when the boy left her in peace, softly sliding the door behind him shut, did the Duchess Satine Kryze finally allow her tears to fall.

She staggered backwards, slowly sliding down the nearest wall until she was curled into a tight ball on the floor. Burying her face in her hands, the young duchess began to sob, the cries completely silent but emancipating such pain she wasn’t even aware the Force itself was mourning with her. 

She had lost everything. 

Her parents had been murdered almost an entire year earlier in the beginning of the war, but it still felt as if the dreadful day had only occurred hours before. Her kingdom, once so strong and beautiful, having been torn apart and ransacked through like it had been nothing to begin with. Bo-Katan, her sister and only living relative left, having been forced to leave Mandalore and travel to another different planet entirely to be protected as she was too young to fend for herself—it was all too much.

Satine was all alone.

She was a failure; when she finally realized that she could no longer take care of herself with the promise of surviving, she swore to herself and to her kingdom that she would protect her people at all costs, no matter the outcome. Even if she sacrificed herself to achieve it.

And then she had been forced into hiding, forced into contacting the Jedi for aid and refuge, forced into _abandoning_ her people and her promise to simply protect _herself_ instead of them. Satine had protested the mere idea of leaving her kingdom instantly, stating that it was ridiculous, and as the leader of Mandalore she needed to be present and strong, but being young had its disadvantages. She was voted out almost immediately and taken to go prepare her things against her will, having been informed that the Jedi were already on their way.

Never had the duchess felt more furious and pathetic in her entire life.

Her people were left in a warzone, completely defenseless and helpless against the insurgents and mercenaries that threatened to take away everything and everyone they held dear, and meanwhile, the young woman that was supposed to be their _leader_ was huddled in the corner of a ship, perfectly intact and safe, bawling her eyes out in private for no one to witness. 

_Useless,_ Satine told herself internally, trembles violently racking down her body. _That’s what you are: useless._

An hour passed before the duchess finally had no more tears to shed, and what remained were occasional dry heaves and sniffles. She slowly lifted her head out of her hands and blinked, eyes not quite used to the brightness in the room and wiped at them. Sluggishly rising to her feet, she then made her way over to the ‘fresher and nearly gaped at the sight of herself in the mirror.

Her reflection nearly made her burst into tears once again; her already pale complexion had whitened even more, so much that she looked like a ghost. Sky blue eyes stared back at her, and Satine cringed at how bloodshot they were, the bags under them so dark they gave off the impression of bruises. Her blonde hair that usually kept a tidy composure now sprang in all directions, nearly making it seem as if she had just rolled out of bed. 

This wasn’t what a duchess was supposed to look like, Satine knew. A short surge of impulsivity had her almost shattering the mirror with her fist in fury, but she rapidly tampered down her anger and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling through her mouth methodically. After repeating the mantra a few more times, her eyes drifted back to her reflection and narrowed determinedly.

 _You need to stop moping around, and instead get up and be useful,_ she inwardly reprimanded herself harshly. _You’re a duchess, for karking sake._

Perhaps she _was_ hungry. Perhaps she _would_ take the Jedi-Padawan on his offer and join him and his master for dinner, that is if they had any left. Satine wouldn’t take too long to find out. Her stomach was already beginning to rumble at the mere thought of food, something that hadn’t happened in a long time.

But first, she needed to compose herself.

A few minutes later, and the duchess was showered, dressed in soft, comfortable clothes and toweling her long, wavy hair dry. She was relieved to find that the whites of her eyes had made a galiant return, and the bruises beneath them weren’t as dark. The hot water had definitely done her some good. To her surprise, she felt more refreshed than she had in ages.

It was a good start.

Satine slowly made her way from her quarters to the cockpit, boots padding softly against the durasteel floor. She had fetched her cloak and slipped it on, the coldness of the ship providing her with an excuse to wear it. In all honesty, the weight of the cloth against her shoulders sometimes made her feel more…safe and secure.

Perhaps it was because it had belonged to her mother before it was hers.

Tears instantly welling at the back of her eyes at the thought of her parents, the duchess wiped at them determinedly, swearing to herself she would not cry. She would not show her weakness to the Jedi. Not when they were so calm and collected, so powerful and strong—

Before she knew it, Satine was hovering under the doorframe of the cockpit, her eyes glued to the sight of the two Jedi relaxedly reclining in their seats, digging into their bowls of what appeared to be stew. They were carefree in each other’s company, smirking and cracking jokes when the boy suddenly stood up, grabbing another bowl and dinner tray along the way. Fearful of being spotted observing them, the duchess abruptly backed out of the entrance, only allowing her head to peek through.

“I should bring this to the duchess,” he told his master with a small smile. “She wouldn’t admit it, but I’m sure she has to be starving.”

“Good idea,” the elder Jedi agreed with a casual nod. “Then, it’s off to bed with you. I’ll keep first watch and wake you up in a few hours to rotate.” 

The boy visibly disagreed with this. “I’m not tired, Master,” he claimed stubbornly. “Besides, the sun went down only a few hours ago. It isn’t very late anyway.”

“No arguments, Padawan. After you deliver the duchess her meal, you are to go rest immediately.” The Jedi Master held up a finger firmly at his apprentice’s beginning of a protest, cutting him off. “ _No_ arguments,” he repeated.

Releasing a defeated sigh, the boy relented. “Yes, Master.”

Choosing that exact moment to linger into the cockpit, Satine fought the urge to blush when the two Jedi instantly shot her surprised—but impressively mild—expressions at her arrival. She smiled softly in return, hoping it looked sincere.

“I hope I’m not too late,” she said, turning her gaze to the boy. “I was thinking about it and decided to turn up on your offer.”

“Duchess,” he replied, the impassiveness that he had shown her earlier quickly making a galiant return. He handed her the dinner tray, which she happily accepted with another smile. “I was just about to bring this to you, but you saved me a trip.”

“Sit, young one,” the elder Jedi invited her, gesturing to a passenger seat looming behind the pilot chair he was currently parked in. Satine awkwardly obliged, keeping her eyes downcast as she took the first few spoonfuls of her meal.

“How is it?” The Jedi Master asked expectantly, the hope shining in his eyes a clear indication that he had been the one to prepare the stew. The duchess wasn’t about to disappoint him. It really was quite very good. One of the best meals she’d eaten in a long time.

“Wonderful,” she answered him honestly, daintily taking another bite, when in reality, she was forcing herself from repeatedly shoving the spoon in her mouth to cure her starvation. The stew truly was fantastic. 

Satine wasn’t expecting the elder Jedi to smirk and eye his the boy next to him playfully, a smug glint flickering in his deep blue eyes. “You can thank Obi-Wan,” he informed her gleefully, clapping his poor, unsuspecting apprentice hard on the back, causing the boy to jolt in surprise. “He made it himself.”

“Master,” the boy began with a heavy sigh, “please don’t—“

The elder Jedi clucked his tongue disapprovingly with a mere shake of his head. “So modest,” he mumbled. “It really will drive me insane sometimes.”

Satine found herself smirking at their banter, but the boy couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable that she was there to witness it. With a glance down at her bowl, she realized that she had finished her stew in a short span of minutes. Rapidly coming to the conclusion that she no longer had any business to attend to in the cockpit, she gracefully rose to her feet, handing the dinner tray to the Jedi Master who reflexively reached for it. 

“Thank you for the meal,” she said gratefully, although for some reason, she kept her gaze firmly locked on the elder Jedi, unable to shift it to the boy who had actually _prepared_ it. “But I’m afraid I must retire for the night as I’m quite tired.”

“Of course, Duchess,” the Jedi Master replied. Then, Satine spotted the subtle nod he sent his apprentice—a muted instruction to escort her to her quarters—and resisted the urge to flush in embarrassment. She hoped the boy would ignore his master’s order, but he dutifully rose to his feet and led her out of the cockpit, leaving her humiliated.

She hoped she was hiding it well.

The venture down the hallway to her quarters was just as awkward as the previous one had been. Satine enfolded her hands securely within her cloak, the motion somehow making her feel more enveloped and protected. Subconsciously sneaking a sideways glance at the boy striding beside her, she didn’t have a clue as to how long she had been studying him for when his head suddenly turned in her direction, forcing her gaze to zip forward before she was caught. 

“How old are you?” He asked quietly, catching her off guard.

Satine cleared her throat, desperately rummaging through her brain to form words and create a response. She was finding it incredibly difficult to simply _speak_ at the moment, which was a bit unsettling, if she was being honest.

“I just turned seventeen two weeks ago,” she finally spluttered, already waiting for the baffled reception she nearly always received after revealing this. It wasn’t that she looked far younger or older than she truly was—people just so frequently stared at her in disbelief when they discovered that a _girl_ was leading the entirety of a planet by herself. 

Nearly a _woman_ now, Satine forcefully reminded herself. As a standard seventeen-year-old, she would be considered a young woman when she finally turned eighteen.

She still felt as if she wasn’t, though.

Then to her absolute shock, the boy didn’t respond the way every single other person or creature had. She stared into the blueness of his eyes, finding a mix of gray within, almost as if it were the eye of a storm. She had expected to see surprise, pity, and even a bit of disdain shining through them, but she instead was met with commendation.

“I admire your bravery,” he admitted, almost even a bit hesitant. “Ruling a kingdom—no, a _world_ , entirely by yourself—it really is most impressive. You should be proud.”

The confession nearly made Satine halt in her steps, but she expertly kept her composure. Was this boy, who had seemed only moments earlier as if he held no personality, paying her a compliment? She wasn’t sure what to do or how to respond. Perhaps thank him, simply pretend she hadn’t heard him, or…?

“It really wasn’t my choice,” she said with a short, hollow laugh, deciding on deflection as the final reply. “My parents were killed over a year ago, and I had to step in and be crowned immediately after as I was the next heir. It wasn’t very much of a big deal.”

The boy didn’t offer a reply, and Satine felt a stab of guilt for just instantly shutting him down. All he had been attempting to do was be kind, and she had repaid his emphatic words with a blunt dismissal. What was wrong with her?

But he was wrong. She didn’t feel proud of herself, and she knew that she shouldn’t. How could she when she had just _abandoned_ her people with no promise of return? She wasn’t a hero. She was pathetic.

The sound of the boy typing the combination code into the keypad which led into her quarters had Satine abruptly jerking herself back to the present. She removed her gaze that had been lingering on her boots for quite some time now and stepped inside, the sight of her new living quarters still unsettling her a great deal. A flash of her homey suite inside the palace zipped across her memory, and her eyes tearfully stung at the thought of it. 

She was already missing it.

Ridding the painful image from her mind, Satine sucked in a sharp breath and headed toward her bed, removing her cloak while at it. She couldn’t force herself to look the boy in the eye anymore; one more sympathetic gaze from him would have her blubbering like a helpless child, unable to stop. 

_Useless,_ she thought angrily to herself, her vision blurring as warm tears trickled down her cheeks against her will.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” the boy said, the soft sounds of his feet shuffling on the floor an indication that he was now making his way back to the door. _Thank the stars,_ Satine thought, internally sighing in relief. She still wouldn’t dare turn and face him. She wouldn’t dare show how vulnerable and helpless she was truly feeling. 

“Thank you,” she answered quickly, fighting through the unruly cracks that threatened to make their way through her voice.

“Sleep well, Duchess.” The boy’s tone had gone soft, nearly causing Satine’s blood to freeze for the second time that night. A rare and strange sensation, she had to admit. “Please don’t hesitate to fetch my master or I if you need assistance.”

She didn’t offer a response. She couldn’t. She was certain that if she moved even a fraction of an inch, all control over her body would be lost, and she would fold in on herself and cry harder than she ever had in her life. 

A few moments later, and the door slid shut with the boy behind it, leaving her in blessed isolation. With no more witnesses to hide from or fear of, Satine collapsed onto the bed, drawing her knees to her chest, tucking her head in between them, grabbed the spare blanket she had been humbly offered, and sobbed openly.

Her cries were audible this time, the sounds gut wrenching and wet, but she didn’t care. As long as they didn’t make it through the thick walls of her quarters, her misery would go unnoticed. She needed to keep it that way for now. 

The spare blanket she was now embedded in…it provided her with a strange sort of warmth. And it wasn’t the heat radiating from the soft material—it was something else. The moment she had fiercely wrapped it around her body in hopes to comfort herself, she was instantly hit with feelings of worry, empathy, and compassion.

But they weren’t her own.

Beginning to tearfully ponder whatever strange emotions that had spurred within her, ones she was almost completely certain didn’t belong to her, Satine didn’t have time to fully process the strange ordeal before she promptly fell asleep from exhaustion, the warm blanket still firmly wrapped around her protectively.

It was all she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> evaar’la solus — young one  
> vercopa — hope


	2. The First Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite Jedi and duchess get to know one another a bit more—although not in the way they’d each like.

Satine was growing restless.

She had been enclosed in the small, cramped ship with the Jedi for over a week now. They had changed locations three times, but she had rarely been allowed to step out into the fresh air for a breather at all, and it was beginning to drive her insane. 

Her thoughts and worries plagued her mind constantly, but the young duchess was slowly learning to deal with them and busily brush them aside. It was still frequent when she would jolt awake in the middle of a night, tears uncontrollably streaming down her cheeks—the outcome of yet another nightmare—but she had been handling them far better than she figured she would.

Satine wouldn’t be lying if she admitted she was quite proud of herself.

But as much as she shoved her dark thoughts away, that same everlasting pit that consisted of nothing but pure emptiness and hollowness within her very soul remained, tormenting her. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever truly be set free.

She was only semi-aware that her restlessness was causing her to come off across as more snarky and spoiled, not the kind, gracious young lady she had once been fondly remembered as. Luckily, the Jedi did not make comments on her sometimes-rude remarks or disdainful expressions—Satine just assumed they were too trained in maintaining their emotions to visibly react—but she was coming to observe that their patience was finally beginning to slip from the edge, as vague and discreet as it was.

Especially the boy’s.

A selfish, childless part of Satine _hoped_ they would lash out at her or shoot her a dirty look, but they stubbornly remained as calm and collected as ever, giving off the striking and frighteningly accurate impression of saints. Their impassiveness and unaffected reactions to _everything_ nearly made the duchess want to rip her hair out in delusional rage; were they really even humans or just robots?

The elder Jedi…Master Jinn, wasn’t it? He was a kind man with a permanent twinkle in his deep blue eyes that expressed nothing but just a hint of amusement and fondness. Satine had come to take a liking to him rather quickly; he often tried to include her in conversations he held with his apprentice and always made sure to check on her every night before bed. She appreciated the offer very much when he informed her that she was free to confide in him whenever she felt it was necessary, but she knew she would never take him up on it. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—just the mere thought of sharing only a fraction of her deepest feelings and thoughts to someone she wasn’t very familiar with yet was enough to make her feel woozy. 

Besides, he was a Jedi. They were taught from birth to remain unattached the entirety of their lives, weren’t they? What could he possibly know of the grief Satine was currently enduring at the loss of her parents and the dangerous threat of possibly never seeing her sister again?

The duchess didn’t know much of the Jedi and how their order operated, but in her opinion, it seemed fairly close to a religion. She was aware they believed in the Force, followed it and even were able to _use_ it, but she didn’t know quite what that meant. So, that made her two protectors a foreign yet somewhat thrilling mystery to her. 

But if Jedi weren’t allowed to embrace, acknowledge, or even accept their emotions, how were they able to see through the eyes of the people they were tasked with aiding? People like her?

Master Jinn would never understand.

And the boy?

Satine had no idea what to think of him.

At least Master Jinn held a personality; the only small remnant of vulnerability the boy had shown her had been the very first night they met, but other than that, he was as distant as could be. Part of the duchess was worried she had frightened him off when she had rudely shut down his kind attempt at complimenting her, and she still felt guilty about it. 

But she didn’t have the courage to apologize.

In her defense, however, the boy seemed to be going out of his way to avoid holding another conversation with her again. She only ever noticed the tiny narrows of his blue-grey eyes whenever he appeared to be a bit irritated with whatever she had to say to the two of them, but he never verbally responded.

Satine was beginning to question whether he would ever speak to her again.

She would find out soon enough.

At the current moment, the young duchess was watching the rain rhythmically slide down the glass of the viewport in boredom. Master Jinn sat in the pilot’s seat, his deep blue gaze focused on a datapad. The boy—apparently a talented mechanic—was carefully inspecting the control panels, having noticed a while earlier that something was off with the navigation system. Not that Satine even knew what that meant.

She hadn’t been allowed outside in almost two days. The Jedi and their phenomenal hearing skills had picked up on some noises deep in the thicket and quickly concluded that they were people. Fearing that they could possibly be in search of the duchess, Satine had been hid away and restricted from stepping out into the dense forest for three days, as there was a large chance the drifters could still be close in the area. She had been frustrated upon learning this but most definitely understood as it was their job to protect her.

It didn’t mean she had to like it, though.

Satine was left with nothing to do. Her satchel was small, thus, providing her the means of only packing essential things, such as clothes. Not that she had much free time as the duchess of Mandalore anyway—there always seemed to be something to do, especially with the war spreading like wildfire throughout their world.

But now, she simply had no ways to entertain herself. It had been this way the entirety of the week she had been living alongside the Jedi. The threesome had fallen into the easy routine of often lounging in the cockpit together, whether it was eating dinner, reading up on the latest reports of Mandalore, or simply becoming lost in their own worlds. The occurrences were rare when they actually engaged in conversation with each other.

Audibly releasing a long-suffering sigh, Satine lazily plucked a datapad lying uselessly on the dashboard and searched for the most recent updates on the war. As usual, there wasn’t any exciting news, only that the casualty rate had once again spiked to a painfully higher number, but she had no interest in reading that. She had no interest in reminding herself that she was such a failure.

“Your restlessness has most definitely been noted, Duchess,” Master Jinn informed her calmly, eyes not once leaving the blue screen of his datapad. There was no rebuke or judgement coloring his words—just a simple observation that held nothing but honesty.

Satine still struggled with fighting against the urge to roll her eyes at the blunt statement. Aiming for an uninterested shrug, she hoped it looked genuine enough to be accepted. “Just a bit tired of staring at the same view every day,” she admitted with a sigh.

“We’ll change locations again tonight,” Master Jinn assured her, looking up with a kind smile.

“It’s not that,” Satine found herself continuing, feeling somewhat more appreciative when the Jedi set his datapad off to the side, focusing the entirety of his attention on her. “I’m just beginning to yearn for even a _moment_ outside in the fresh air.”

“I understand.” The Jedi Master shot her a look of sympathy. “As a man who lives and breathes in the creation of nature, I can unashamedly admit that I yearn for the outdoors as well, but duty comes first, Duchess. And I don’t think your fellow people would be very thrilled to hear that your Jedi protectors had allowed you to be killed due to letting down their guard by allowing you outside when it wasn’t yet deemed safe enough, don’t you agree?”

Once again, it took everything in Satine’s self-control not to send Master Jinn a death stare. She would never admit to herself _or_ him that he was indeed correct out loud, but just the mere fact of internally knowing otherwise made her blood boil in irritation. She felt as if she were a helpless, confined animal trapped in a cage with no means of escaping. 

She needed to be free.

“Just be patient,” Master Jinn continued with an extremely frustrating wave of his hand, a clear sign of dismissal. “Three days have almost passed, and I’m most certain they’re miles away from here by now.”

“If you’re so _certain_ ,” Satine found herself shooting back, “then why can’t I go outside _now_?”

She realized a bit too late how childish her demand had sounded, and judging by the two expressions the Jedi were making at her, they couldn’t have agreed more. Master Jinn just looked perplexed and a bit amused. Meanwhile, the boy, who was hunched over in the co-pilot’s chair while focusedly fiddling with the radar display, then sat straight up in his seat, blue-grey eyes narrowed in what Satine had quickly come to notice over the past week was irritation.

He didn’t even seem like he was _trying_ to hide his opinion of her anymore.

“One can never be too careful,” Master Jinn recovered, although there was a slight waver in his voice. Satine caught sight of the bewildered look his apprentice sent him, but the elder Jedi didn’t acknowledge it, focusing his attention on the young royal sitting before him instead. “You must realize how delicate this mission is, Duchess. The future of Mandalore depends on your survival, and as your protectors, we will not hesitate to take whatever precautions are necessary to keep you alive and safe.”

“I understand,” Satine finally relented flatly, allowing the conversation to slide as she knew there was no point to argue with the Jedi when he was correct. Then, before she couldn’t stop herself, she added miserably, “But just _sitting_ here and doing nothing—it feels like a prison.”

“You could find something productive to do,” came a dry tone from behind the Jedi Master. Satine craned her neck to the side to get a good sight of the boy, only to grit her teeth in frustration when he didn’t even return her gaze, instead busily keeping his focus trained on the control panels as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

“Like _what_?” Satine snapped harshly.

“Preparing dinner would be a good start.” This time, the boy looked up, and his blue-grey eyes met her own sky blue, a heated flash flickering over them. His face was crafted into a very careful expression of calm, the only features giving any hint of his displeasure being his bright, fiery orbs. 

A surge of anger coursed through Satine, and she allowed it to consume her, carrying her to her feet and toward him. Stars’, she hadn’t had the burden of being forced to cook a single day in her life; what made the boy think she was just going to stand up and do it now?

“Excuse me?” She growled.

“Did I say something wrong?” The boy asked innocently, although there was sarcasm latching onto the edge of his voice, so vague it almost wasn’t noticeable but just barely clear enough to be acknowledged. Satine most certainly didn’t miss the way it brought the smallest of smirks to his lips.

“You want me to _cook_?” She demanded furiously.

“A change of pace would be nice,” he replied without missing a beat. “If I can recall correctly, _I’ve_ been the one preparing all of our meals, have I not?”

Mind fumbling for a response, Satine was struggling to process the fact the boy was now in fact holding a _conversation_ with her, much less _slamming_ her. Sky blue eyes squinting determinedly, she quickly summoned back her courage and prepared a retort, fully planning on not allowing him to overthrow her. 

“Perhaps it _would_ be a better idea if someone else started cooking,” she agreed enthusiastically, however, allowing a dangerous sneer to creep up her lips. “The food by all means has been absolutely dreadful.”

A wave of satisfaction arose within her body when a hint of shock flashed through the boy’s eyes. She then observed that his irises had changed colors; what had once been the mysterious, distant pools of blue-grey had now rapidly shifted into bright, almost blinding orbs of pure sapphire.

Was this another strange yet frustratingly captivating trait all Jedi possessed? The ability of their irises to change color when their moods transitioned?

Or perhaps it was just the the angle of the light, and Satine was just simply going mad?

“I hardly think you’re one to talk.” The harsh tone brought the duchess back to the current situation at hand. She quickly tore herself from her stare fest that was the boy’s eyes and fought to keep herself from flushing in both embarrassment _and_ anger. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She challenged him.

“I presume it’s safe to assume you haven’t spent a day cooking in your life,” the boy continued calmly, much to her barely contained rage. “So, if someone else were to take over the cooking duties instead of me, it definitely shouldn’t be you.”

“Your Master probably isn’t even a good cook either!” Satine exclaimed, her shrill voice cutting through the once calm area that was the cockpit. “In fact, I’m appalled that you haven’t killed any of us yet with food poisoning!”

Her final remark sent the boy into silence, the sight of his jaw dropping in disbelief a greatly satisfying one. There was no longer any fire within his bright eyes, only bewilderment at the fact that he had just been mouthed off by a _duchess._

Satine didn’t even need to turn to gauge Master Jinn’s reaction—she already had a pretty good idea as to what his expression had most likely morphed into. However, she didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment for lashing out the way she did—the boy had been the one to start it!

 _Mess with the bull, and you get the horns,_ she thought darkly.

Suddenly, it were as if the two Jedi had read her mind. The moment the thought had popped inside her head, the two’s faces shifted into looks that were even more appalled, as if insulted. Realizing that they must have used one of their dirty Jedi-mind tricks on her to sneak a peek inside her brain, Satine only grew more aggravated.

Knowing that her next quip would just add to the damage, the duchess spun on her heel and stormed out of the cockpit before she could utter another word. 

When she entered her quarters a few moments later, Satine surprised herself by launching onto the bed and immediately bursting into tears. Curling into a ball and grabbing the blanket the boy had given her a week earlier, she firmly wrapped it around herself, sniffling into the soft material. This was rapidly becoming a normal routine for her when she felt down—which had been occurring _quite_ often lately.

All she yearned for was for someone to hold her, lovingly fold their arms around her and protect her, to assure her that things would get better again. To assure her that she _wasn’t_ weak and powerless like she so often told herself, but instead, just waiting for the next sliver of hope to reveal its face and make everything right. To make everything be the way it used to be.

 _“I need a sign,”_ Satine found herself whispering shakily to the air, miserably wiping the warm tears that mercilessly spilled down her eyes. _“Something, anything…”_

But the world had nothing to offer her.

And instead, she was trapped with two emotionless Jedi she had no interest in getting to know.

Especially the _boy._ Satine’s lip curled up in disgust at the mere thought of him. How could one be so arrogant and have a remark at standby for every insult hurtled his way? His incredible ability to hold his own in the argument with her infuriated the duchess. Before she had been crowned—before the war, when her home world had been a much different place—her family hadn’t _dreamed_ of stirring up conversations with her that could potentially trigger a full-blown debate. They just knew that attempting to hold their own against Satine was extremely pointless.

She just supposed she had an answer for everything.

And by the looks of it, the boy was the same way.

 _Wonderful,_ Satine thought bitterly, folding in on herself more tightly as a result.

Suddenly all lights enshrouding her quarters flickered and abruptly went out, casting the duchess in a lonely darkness. She sat up reflexively, a bit startled, and assuming that the electricity had just endured a glitch, she waited patiently for the lights to turn back on.

They didn’t.

Cautiously making her way to what she assumed was the door, Satine fumbled for the light switch and flicked it up, expecting to be cast in brightness instantly, but was instead left disappointed. She sighed and sagged against the wall while closing her eyes in weariness, still struggling to process the torturous nightmare that was now her life. 

A voice from down the hall brought her eyes to flutter open in annoyance, the tone low and even, although Satine was almost certain she picked up on a barely audible sliver of worry lining it. Master Jinn, she concluded rather quickly.

“Duchess? I’m afraid we have a problem.”

 _You don’t say,_ Satine inwardly glowered while she went to fetch the spare flashlight sitting inside her satchel.

The power had gone out.   
  


* * *

  
Obi-Wan felt more than saw the disappointment his master was radiating within the Force, with being cast in nothing but pure darkness, and all. Involuntary sighing to himself, the boy rubbed at his eyes tiredly—this day just seemed to be getting better and better.

“What happened?” Qui-Gon’s voice was methodically calm, as if he were doing everything in his power to keep it that way.

Another weary exhale. “The engines. Something still doesn’t appear to be right.”

The elder Jedi’s deep blue gaze penetrated even through the darkness. “Clearly.”

Obi-Wan was grateful his master wouldn’t catch sight of the wince he performed at the cold tone that had been taken with him. The moment the duchess had stormed out of the cockpit a few minutes earlier, Qui-Gon had made his displeasure with his Padawan obvious while somehow pulling it off without uttering almost a single word. 

“We should alert the duchess of the situation, Master.”

Qui-Gon clucked his tongue in agreement. “Perhaps I should summon her this time, Padawan,” he replied casually. “We don’t want her storming off to her quarters for the second time if she were to feel insulted again, would we?”

Another exasperated sigh. “I already apologized, Master.” Obi-Wan fought to keep his expression impassive, knowing full well the elder Jedi held the capability of reading him like a book. “Arguing with the duchess was wrong, and I realized that. Can we please just move on?”

“Perhaps you should be apologizing to _her_ , not me.”

Certain that he had lost this round, Obi-Wan finally caved, allowing the small hunch of his shoulders to deepen. “Yes, Master. I understand. Please forgive me for my behavior.”

The sensation of Qui-Gon’s warm, strong hand on his shoulder made the boy tense for a fraction of a moment, but he relaxed when the elder Jedi’s touch was gentle. He struggled to identify his master’s expression in the darkness until a soft, amused chuckle filled the air.

“Oh, Obi-Wan.” The voice was flooded with playfulness, but the boy sensed the fondness hidden within and let his own sheepish smirk escape. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’ve always said my sarcasm will land us in a whole heap of trouble one day, Master, didn’t you?”

“So I did, cheeky Padawan of mine.” Qui-Gon teasingly tugged on the boy’s braid and laughed when Obi-Wan jerked away and out of his grasp with a displeased grunt. “Oh, come now. You like it when I do that.”

“This argument will never be won, will it, Master?” Obi-Wan gave an amused shake of his head and snorted. “I don’t know how to make this more clear: I completely and utterly _despise_ when you pull my braid. When will you ever understand that?”

“Probably never,” Qui-Gon said without missing a beat, then quickly adding, “Now, Padawan, time to switch gears. We need to assess the problem with the engines and notify the duchess of the situation. Will you summon her?”

“I feel as if that wouldn’t be the wisest decision, Master.” Obi-Wan felt the flush creeping up his cheeks in embarrassment and was ever so grateful for the darkness they were cast in. “The duchess would most definitely have my head right now if you weren’t here to meditate.”

“You’re probably right,” Qui-Gon agreed with a shrug. Unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, he activated it, enshrouding them in an emerald green blow. Taking the hint, the boy mimicked the elder Jedi’s motions, casting his sapphire blue blade in the mix. It was a bit easier to see the cockpit with their weapons alight, but Obi-Wan knew the duchess must have been shaken, all alone in a ship she was barely familiar with. 

“Duchess?” Qui-Gon called, heading out the cockpit and down the hall, the hum of his lightsaber traveling with him. “I’m afraid we have a problem.”

“I can see that,” came the sharp reply as the tap of the girl’s footsteps made their way to the direction of the cockpit. Obi-Wan felt his nostrils flare in irritation at the mere awareness of her presence and rapidly shoved his dark thoughts away, not wanting to displease his master any further. 

A few moments later the duchess and Qui-Gon emerged from the darkness, a lightsaber in the Jedi’s hand and a flashlight wrapped firmly in the girl’s fingers. Then, to his dismay, the young royal shone her flashlight directly into Obi-Wan’s eyes, causing him to grunt and shield his face from the blinding radiance. When he revealed himself once he was certain the duchess had redirected the aim of her flashlight, he barely caught sight of the evident smirk etched on her features.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw so tightly at her in return that he was certain he heard his teeth scrape.

“Mind if I borrow that for a moment?” Qui-Gon asked the girl, gesturing to her flashlight. She gazed at him blankly for a moment before sending him a nod and handing it over. A small, devilish part of Obi-Wan yearned for his master to cast it directly into her eyes and make her gasp in a mix of pain and surprise to avenge his Padawan, but the elder Jedi simply took it and made his way to the control panels, shining the bright light on the engine system instead. 

“What seems to be the problem?” The duchess asked, looming behind the Jedi Master curiously.

“That’s what he’s finding out,” Obi-Wan shot back almost reflexively, inwardly wincing when Qui-Gon sent him a tendril of warning through their training bond.

_Enough, Padawan._

The boy swallowed thickly, attempting to allow his agitation to dissipate within the Force and replace it with a calm facade. _Yes, Master._

The threesome were silent as Qui-Gon assessed the problem for a short while, but it felt like an eternity to Obi-Wan. The intensity hanging heavily between himself and the duchess was _implacable_ ; after all his years as a Jedi and mastering the skill of remaining calm in any situation, this _girl_ came along and made him want to nearly rip his hair out. 

The boy was beginning to question as to why the duchess affected him so much when his master’s hum of disapproval brought him back to the present. His eyes darted over to Qui-Gon, and he felt a spike of worry hit his chest when he was met with an expression of weariness.

“What is it?” He asked. 

The Jedi Master blew out a long breath, swiping a hand down his face in defeat. “Bad news,” he informed the two youths with another sigh. “We can’t live here anymore.”

“What?” The duchess gawked at him, sky blue eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Master…?” Obi-Wan questioned, pushing the elder Jedi to explain further.

“The control panels have completely powered down and died out,” Qui-Gon explained, clearly attempting to avoid the two youths’ expressions of bewilderment. “And the reason for that is: I have absolutely no idea. Obi-Wan, you’re the mechanic—why don’t you give it a try?”

“I already did, Master,” the boy answered honestly with a shrug. “I don’t think I’ll have much luck.”

“Will we have to live outside?” The duchess asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft and small.

“I hope not, young one.” Qui-Gon’s look of sympathy in the darkness was that of the understated, but it was evident the girl appreciated it. “We’ll just have to see what the Force has planned for us.” Then, with a gentle push in the direction of the hallway, he ushered the duchess out of the cockpit. “Why don’t you go fetch your satchel—just in case?”

When the girl was gone, Obi-Wan focused his attention on the control panels with his master aiding him with the flashlight and the glow of his green saber. Inspecting every inch of the dashboard, determined on not missing one detail, the boy closed his eyes for a brief moment and soaked in the soothing presence of the Force. As if it thrilled it were being summoned, it answered his call and enshrouded him in an everlasting warmth and security. Obi-Wan relished in the sensation for a fraction of a moment before allowing his eyes to flutter open, now seeing the world around him in an entirely different light.

The cockpit was brighter, Qui-Gon’s presence beside him was more radiant, his hearing was attuned and definite, and even his nose had abruptly picked up on nearly all the scents around him—the Force had done its job. Obi-Wan studied the controls before him focusedly, attempting to determine as to why they had stopped functioning and how he could fix them. There were no lights flashing in alarm or chirps of warnings that indicated a problem, so what was the issue?

Suddenly his nose picked up on a peculiar scent, and he sniffed involuntary, eyes bulging as wide as saucers as he almost instantly realized what the smell was.

“Padawan?” Qui-Gon’s voice sounded distant.

Obi-Wan abruptly leapt to his feet, dashing down the hall and to the duchess’ quarters. “Gas leak!” He shouted as he ran. “Get out, now! I’ll find the duchess!”

He felt his master’s confusion through their bond, most likely the elder Jedi questioning as to how his Padawan knew this, but he didn’t have any time to explain further. Sending a wave of security through the Force, he internally assured the elder Jedi.

_Trust me, Master._

Just as he rounded the corner, the duchess was calmly emerging from her quarters, busily rummaging through her satchel to ensure that her belongings were inside. When her gaze darted up to meet the boy’s, it was a mix of frustration and annoyance, but kark it, Obi-Wan wasn’t having any of that at the moment. 

“Hey!” She snapped when he grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“We have to get out, now!” He exclaimed, certain there had to be a fire within his eyes when she instantly clammed up and appeared flustered. “There’s a gas leak, and it’s going to blow!”

“What?” She gasped, her sky blue orbs doubling in size.

Obi-Wan ran to his own quarters and snatched up the backpack sitting inside his closet and threw it over his shoulder before he could answer. Then, he barged into Qui-Gon’s quarters and found his master’s infamous duffel bag—a faded, stained, and tattered sack of material that the ‘maverick Jedi’ had been rumored of carrying since he was a Padawan himself—and tossed it over his other shoulder. He rushed back out into the hallway and grabbed the duchess’ wrist again and sprinted toward the exit, ignoring her yelp of surprise as they went. 

When they dashed down the ramp and met with even ground, they found an anxious Qui-Gon waiting for them. He ushered the two youths a long distance away from the spacecraft, most definitely safe from any threats that could occur. When the threesome were securely hidden within a grove of trees, the Jedi Master bent over and examined his Padawan and the duchess thoroughly.

“Are you both alright?” He asked warily.

“We’re fine,” Obi-Wan answered for the both of them.

“Would anyone care to explain to me what’s going on?” The duchess asked confusedly.

“I’m not even sure myself,” Qui-Gon told her, fixing his curious gaze on the boy. “Obi-Wan here, was the one who assessed the gas leak and ran to fetch you like a banshee.” Then adding, “Care to explain, Padawan?”

Obi-Wan pointed to the ship looming in the distance. “It must be the fuel tank. I was inspecting the control panels when I smelled the smoke.”

Qui-Gon followed the boy’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Well, is it going to explode?”

“Of course it will.” The boy found himself growing insulted. “I know what I’m talking about,” he added feistily.

The duchess sent him an unimpressed expression, sky blue eyes giving off a dull gleam. “And yet, I don’t see an explosion,” she pointed out testily with a casual wave of her hand.

Obi-Wan shot her a glare. “It will,” he snapped harshly. “Just give it a moment.”

 _Several_ moments passed before the boy was beginning to realize how stupid he would appear if the ship indeed _didn’t_ explode. The threesome watched the spacecraft in silence, waiting for the dreaded moment to finally come, but it wasn’t occurring. Obi-Wan’s heart sped up in a mix of anticipation and embarrassment; he had been so _sure_ of a gas leak and an explosion. He had _heard_ the Force whispering the warning directly into his ear, _urging_ him to evacuate the ship immediately—

“Well, obviously you were wrong,” the duchess stated without an ounce of regret. “I suppose we should just then _go_ on back inside, shouldn’t we?”

“Wait.” Qui-Gon held her back. “Let’s just…give it a few more moments. Just to be safe.” Even while he was denying the young royal’s request to go back inside the ship, Obi-Wan heard the dismissal within his master’s voice, a clear sign that he agreed with the duchess wholeheartedly.

“Why?” The girl pressed impatiently. “The ship is _not_ going to explode—“

Her words halted when the spacecraft standing before them suddenly imploded.

The three were silent as they watched the flames consume the entirety of the ship in a matter of seconds, leaving its remains scattered in nothing but ash and smoke. All Obi-Wan was aware of when the rattling of the ground and trees around them ceased was the disbelief etched on Qui-Gon and duchess’ faces and the extremely satisfying discovery that he had been _right_. 

The quietude hung in the air for a long while before the Jedi Master turned to the boy and clamped a strong hand on his shoulder in gratitude. There wasn’t a hint of a smile creeping up Qui-Gon’s features as he stared his Padawan down, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but find a bit of humor in the seriousness laced in the elder Jedi’s words.

“Padawan, remind me to never doubt your instincts again, thank you.”   
  


* * *

  
When Satine had been told she was to be protected by two Jedi with their lives, she would have never imagined they would already be living hand-to-mouth only a week into their time on the run. 

But that just seemed to be _another_ unpredictable turn her life had taken, because as of lately, everything was just fully _willing_ to go wrong and tear her apart even more.

At least she had her satchel, though; an extra change of clothes, the spare blanket she had quickly packed in at the last minute, and a few momentos from her life before the war would energize her to keep going, Satine was sure of it. Besides, the Jedi had their own essential supplies stocked inside their massive backpacks, so she was certain they would be able to manage for a while.

But eventually their supplies would run out.

The duchess shook the alarming realization from her mind and focused on the small fire flickering before her eyes. She reached out and felt the heat from the flames on her fingers, relishing in the warmth. 

The dreadful, terrifying sight of the ship imploding a few hours earlier still sat etched into her mind, no matter how hard she tried to forget it. Although, Satine supposed she deserved it; the boy had been right, and she along with Master Jinn hadn’t believed him. If the three had made their way back to the spacecraft, they most certainly would have been killed in the blast.

She shivered at the thought.

Throwing her hood over her head, she firmly wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to rid the chill running up her bones but to no avail. The Jedi were sitting across from her on the other side of the bonfire, rummaging through their bags to assess which supplies they had brought along with them. For the love of all good things in the galaxy, Satine prayed they had brought toilet paper—

“I don’t know _what_ you were thinking, Obi-Wan,” came the gruff voice of Master Jinn as he zipped his backpack shut. “You could have been _killed_ in that explosion if you had stayed inside the ship any longer than you did.”

“At least we have supplies,” the boy told him.

“And if the ship had chosen the specific time to explode when you were in our rooms collecting our bags? What would have happened, then?”

“But it _didn’t_ happen,” the boy insisted calmly, smiling softly when the elder Jedi shot him a dry look. “Master,” he coaxed gently, much more gentle and sympathetic this time, “I told you to trust me, did I not?”

“Yes,” Master Jinn admitted tautly, as if the words had been ripped from his mouth against his will, “but that’s not the point—“

“And I evacuated the ship along with the duchess safely, did I not?” Satine found the soothing, even tone the boy had taken with his master infuriating; how did one hold the capability of remaining calm and collected in drastic times such as this? 

“Yes,” Master Jinn relented again, although there was still a hint of hesitation lingering in his voice.

“The Force was guiding me, Master.” The boy smiled again, a bit sheepish this time. “I could feel it pulsing within my veins. Its energy was surging through me almost endlessly. I feel as if I _physically_ felt it whispering commands in my ear, the instructions soft but so _clear_. I knew I had a bit of time to spare before the explosion, so I took advantage of it.”

His beautiful description made something stir within Satine, and she couldn’t help but stare as she watched the boy speak so calmly but passionately to his master who attentively listened. His delicate yet graceful play with words had captivated her entirely, and she wasn’t sure how to set herself free.

“Then, why did you practically shove me out of the ship as if it were going to blow any second?” Master Jinn asked honestly, his deep blue eyes shining bright in the darkness cast around the three of them.

“Well, it's always good to take precautions, Master, isn’t it?” The boy raised a brow skeptically in sarcasm. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

Satine was just beginning to question as to what he meant by that when the elder Jedi snorted and clamped a strong hand atop his apprentice’s shoulder in amusement. She had come to observe over the past week that this action was Master Jinn’s go-to for showing the boy affection and couldn’t help but be a bit bothered by it. She wasn’t entirely certain, but she knew for a fact that the Jedi didn’t share attachments as it was against their Code, but it appeared fairly obvious that Master Jinn cared deeply for his apprentice.

And yet they weren’t allowed to express their adoration for one another?

The Jedi and their self-sacrificing ways, Satine mused unhappily. She would have to investigate further later.

She was then caught off guard when the boy was suddenly making his way toward her. Their gazes locked, and Satine did everything in her power to keep from blushing in embarrassment, silently praying that the flames of the fire would conceal the uncontrollable redness of her pale cheeks. She rapidly switched her attention on the sight of Master Jinn busily rummaging through his bag again, seemingly distracted enough to be unaware of the current event taking place.

It didn’t take long for the duchess to catch on.

“May I sit?” The boy asked her, almost hesitantly, gesturing to the vacant spot beside her.

“I don’t own the grass,” she replied sourly.

A flash of annoyance flickered across the boy’s blue-grey eyes, but he allowed the dig to slide, perching himself beside Satine and folding his hands neatly in his lap. A long silence passed, their focus lingering on entirely different things—the boy gazing lazily at the licking flames of fire and the duchess staring blankly at the moon and dark sky.

“I know you’re here to apologize, and you don’t have to,” Satine finally said.

She didn’t look at him when he curiously turned his head toward her. Although, she did notice the tiny quirk of his brows from her peripheral vision. Choosing to ignore it, Satine hoped it was enough to trigger a response from him.

“But I do,” he suddenly responded, causing her gaze to meet his against her will. “What I said was wrong, Duchess, and I apologize. I have no excuse.”

The boy was taking responsibility for his actions? Satine was appalled he had allowed his pride to get this bruised and wasn’t even uttering one word of complaint. Clearly he held the ability to possess humility—when he wanted to, that was. 

Before she knew it, Satine found herself asking for forgiveness as well.

“Neither do I,” she said quietly, strangely unable to look him right in the eye, instead keeping her gaze firmly on her twiddling thumbs. “I apologize as well for my impulsivity; as a duchess I shouldn’t allow it to consume me in my anger.”

“Nor for I as a Jedi,” the boy admitted, reverting Satine’s attention from her hands back to him. “I suppose it would be best for us to just move on and start on a clean slate?”

For the first time in a long while, Satine found herself smiling. And not the taut, forced toothy-grins she was so accustomed to making in the past year while pretending that everything was alright when it indeed _wasn’t_ , but the _real, genuine_ kind that were extremely rare but ones worth the remembrance. 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Perhaps the boy wasn’t such a nightmare after all.

They spent the next few minutes in another silence, but this time, Satine noticed that it was much more relaxed. She was suddenly beginning to wonder if she was enjoying it when the boy pulled something from his cloak and peeled off the wrapper, revealing a ration bar. It was then when she came to the conclusion that she was in fact _starving._

As if sensing her urge to rip the snack from his hands, the boy turned toward her expectantly. “Ration bar, Duchess?” He asked politely.

“Please.” Satine gratefully accepted the second bar he produced from within his cloak and opened it excitedly. When she took her first bite, she closed her eyes in contentment, savoring the precious taste. It was simply too good to be eaten so rapidly.

“Oh,” she then said, as if it were an afterthought, “and do cease with the royalties. Just call me Satine, if you will.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she was appalled that she had actually spoken them out loud. The slight surprise plastered on the boy’s face was an indication that he felt the same way. 

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly.

“Yes,” Satine found herself replying before she could change her mind. She then quickly came to the realization that she didn’t have a clue as to what to call the boy and inwardly cringed. Master Jinn often called him ‘Padawan’ or ‘Obi-Wan’—the second one clearly being his name—but she wasn’t certain where _she_ stood when it came to addressing him.

“And what may I call you?”

Another pause, and Satine was worried sick that she had overstepped her bounds. Carefully yet subtlety studying him, she concluded that he was pondering over her question and sagged a bit in relief. 

“I suppose you could call me Obi-Wan,” he finally told her, his gaze flicking up to meet hers and staying there. Satine stared right back at him, studying the bright eyes that were now pools of calm sea green. He blinked, and she watched his long, thick lashes flutter, their color matching the short, thick ginger spikes of hair that sat atop his head, the dancing flames of the fire elegantly giving them glints of gold.  
  
Perhaps the most interesting thing of all about him was his smile. Even as small and reserved as it was, it made his already deepened dimples pop and seemed to give everything around him a heavenly glow. Satine found her own lips curling up once again at the expression; his smile was certainly contagious, that was for sure.

“Obi-Wan, it is,” she replied happily.

Perhaps she could tolerate him for just a _bit_ longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Obi-Wan and Satine are just beginning to learn to tolerate each other and also just beginning to realize what nightmares both of them truly happen to be. 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: The First Bounty Encounter


	3. The First Bounty Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens to be the dead of night when some of Satine’s captors choose to make their first appearance.

“Padawan, fetch some more firewood, would you?”

Obi-Wan looked up from the bacta tube he was currently in the middle of opening, nodding obediently. “Of course, Master. Just let me finish up here, first.” He then continued on with his task, eyeing the large cut that sported itself across the palm of Qui-Gon’s hand in sympathy.

“Nonsense,” the elder Jedi said dismissively. “I can certainly handle this myself.”

Obi-Wan shot him a knowing look. “Master, let me help you.”

“Go,” Qui-Gon told him. “You’re full of energy; I can sense it. You need to burn it off, and you’ll do exactly that if you go for a walk. I can handle myself,” he added again with a wave of his injured hand, wincing harshly as he did so, much to the boy’s amusement.

“You can barely move your hand,” Obi-Wan pointed out dryly.

“I can move the other one just fine.” The remark came out a bit agitated this time, but it only brought a small smirk to the boy’s lips. It was clear that his master was aware he was losing this battle and was desperately trying to prove his point, but Obi-Wan would go out of his way to make sure the elder Jedi didn’t escape with a win.

“And how many times have you cornered _me_ and insisted that I let you take care of me while you completely ignored my claims that I was capable of doing it myself?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow to emphasize his statement, inwardly cheering when Qui-Gon’s frown deepened. “I suppose it’s payback time, Master.” 

The elder Jedi let out a frustrated huff. “This is different.”

“How so? Indulge me.”

Qui-Gon glared at him, deep blue eyes blazing, but it was evident he knew he had lost this round. “Oh, _fine_ ,” he muttered grumpily, dramatically holding out his injured hand for the boy to tenderly treat and grimaced, only further proving his Padawan’s point.

“If _I_ hadn’t insisted that we stop and take a rest for the night, I wouldn’t have even known about the cut, because _you_ certainly weren’t going to tell me yourself.” Obi-Wan held Qui-Gon’s hand up delicately, studying the wound and blood trickling down the elder Jedi’s arm. “Look at it, Master, it’s nearly infected.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, it didn’t even hurt,” Qui-Gon insisted stubbornly.

“He’s right, Master Jinn.” The sound of Satine’s voice hovering near Obi-Wan’s ear had him almost startling. “It doesn’t look very good.”

“Just slap some bacta on it, and I’ll be fine. You two are making this far more dramatic than it ought to be.”

Obi-Wan fought the urge to roll his eyes and settled on a sigh instead. “We’ll need to clean this up before I can wrap it.” Then, turning to face the young royal standing behind him, he asked, “Duchess, would it burden you to fetch the water flask from my backpack?”

When Satine returned with the flask a short moment later, the boy expertly cleaned the wound, sending his master calming tendrils through the Force as it was very painful for the elder Jedi to endure. The cut was deep, trailing from the top of his palm to the beginning of his wrist, the blood endlessly trickling out and down his forearm. Once Obi-Wan wiped the dark, sickening color of crimson away and the normal complexion of Qui-Gon’s pallor made a return, he got to work bandaging the wound, carefully wrapping the bacta patches tightly around his master’s hand until it was secure.

“Better?” He asked once finished.

“Very much, Padawan.” Qui-Gon barely sent him a smile, but the boy sensed the gratefulness flooding through their bond. “Thank you.”

Almost giving into the urge of teasing his master, Obi-Wan decided on humility as a substitute and gave a shallow dip of his head in return, allowing the ends of his lips to curl up fondly. “Of course, Master,” he replied.

“Now, go get that firewood,” the elder Jedi instructed. “Duchess, why don’t you tag along with him? I could use some peace and quiet for a change, as short as it may end up feeling.”

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment and shifted his gaze to his boots. Beside him, the young royal awkwardly ran a hand through her blonde hair, as if unsure on how else to occupy her hands. He and Satine had been at each other’s throats all day, hurling insults back and forth as if there was no tomorrow. Obi-Wan really did feel ashamed of that.

He did not, however, hold any remorse for the harsh words he had exchanged with the duchess throughout the day, but instead, was overflowing with guilt at nearly driving his master to an early grave with all the bickering that was occurring. Qui-Gon was most definitely doing his best at attempting to mediate and make peace, but handling two witty, unpredictable, and stubborn teenagers was nearly an impossible task for even a Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon deserved the break, Obi-Wan decided achingly, as much as even the mere thought of spending another minute with the duchess had him almost tearing his hair out. His master was exhausted, worn-down, and sore. Force, they _all_ were. 

But Qui-Gon needed the rest the most.

“Yes, Master,” the boy finally relented respectfully. And with that, he gestured for Satine to follow him, and she did so without hesitation, trailing out of the large clearing and re-entering the lush, dense forest.

The sun was slowly setting behind the trees, casting a beautiful golden glow on the leaves, branches, and grass. Obi-Wan soaked in the lovely sight for a short moment, feeling the warm presence of the Force surrounding him. He basked in it, allowing his eyes to slip closed and wade within the deep waters of meditation, already utterly enjoying it and realizing in shock that he hadn’t had the opportunity to meditate in what felt like an eternity—

“What are you doing?”

The boy’s eyes flew open to find Satine standing beside him, and he instantly scrubbed the side of his face, attempting to rid the flush creeping up his cheeks. He felt a bit embarrassed for allowing himself to slip away amongst another’s presence, but to his surprise, the girl didn’t seem as if she were judging him in any way whatsoever; instead, her brow was pulled together quizzically, her sky blue eyes contemplative, as if she were genuinely curious.

“U-um…” Obi-Wan trailed off hesitantly, a bit unsure how to explain it. “Just meditation, I suppose.”

“Meditation?” Satine inquired, intrigued. “As in…balancing yourself?”

Obi-Wan simply nodded, resuming his quest forward, and the girl followed beside him, her gaze never leaving his face as she pondered this information. The two ventured deeper through the trees, noticing the slight breeze flitting through the air as the sun slowly but surely descended. A long, awkward silence filled around them, but Obi-Wan did his best to ignore it. He was growing quite used to doing this by now.

“How do you do it?” Satine suddenly asked.

“Do what?” The boy shot her a perplexed expression. Their brief conversation several minutes earlier had nearly gone over his head by now, but clearly the duchess had been thinking about it longer than he thought. “Meditation?”

“Yes,” Satine replied, as if it were obvious. 

“Well…you must simply forget everything around you, everything that worries you, everything that takes up your time, and just close your eyes and breathe, I suppose.” Obi-Wan sent her sideways glance as they walked, hopeful his explanation was understandable. “It takes a while to master it, but once you do, you’ll end up depending on it more than you think you will.”

“And the Force?” Satine met his gaze, those fierce, sky blue orbs of hers narrowing a bit. “You use it to guide you through your meditation?”

“I suppose,” he answered lamely.

“What is the Force, exactly?”

Obi-Wan started at her in disbelief before inhaling deeply and calmly through his nose. _Force,_ she really wanted to do this now? He was so tired and didn’t want to explain anything more to her. All he wanted was to collect firewood in blessed silence, return to their campsite, and curl up in a heap on the grass and pass out for the remainder of the night in peace. 

But _no_ , he inwardly glowered. The duchess had chosen _this_ specific time to be _difficult_. 

A stab of guilt penetrated him at his rash thoughts, and Obi-Wan expertly released them into the Force with ease. All she simply was being was curious, and he couldn’t hold that against her. He was a Jedi, and Jedi were patient, gentle, and understanding. He wasn’t doing a great job of following that example.

“The Force is an energy shield, one that binds us all together,” he told her slowly, inwardly cringing at the simplicity of his explanation, but really, how else could he describe it? “It’s what gives a Jedi his or her abilities and is created by all living things.”

“So…you’re saying the Force lives within all of us?” Satine questioned carefully, eyes cast on the sun that had nearly disappeared behind the trees by now. 

“Exactly.” Obi-Wan allowed a tiny small to escape in impressment; she was catching on fast.

“Even people like me?”

“Of course. The Force is inside everyone; we live and breathe it. It ties everything together and connects us all in its own special ways.”

Satine bent over and collected a stray stick laying on the ground, holding it up for the boy to see. “Can we use this?” At his nod, she handed it to him and he placed it within one of the pockets in his robe. “So,” she continued, almost too casually, “can all beings use the Force the way Jedi do?”

“Not all can. You see, all beings are born with a certain number of midi-chlorians, which are microscopic life-forms that live inside the cells of our bodies. The higher amount of midi-chlorians that you have, the greater ability you have to use the Force. Beings like the Jedi have to have very high midi-chlorian counts to be accepted within the Order, or else, we are not considered Force-sensitive beings.”

“I see.” Satine watched Obi-Wan as he crouched to pluck a few sticks off the ground carefully. “How are you Jedi _accepted_ into the Order? How does it work?”

Feeling a bit confused at her strange passion to _understand_ people like him, the boy struggled to keep it from entering upon his face and was grateful for the darkness the sun had abandoned them in. “We are discovered by other Jedi—usually when they partake on missions—and taken from our families as children and sent to live our lives in the Temple.”

He registered a bit of confusion when the duchess’ features transformed from curious to horrified in a matter of seconds, her large eyes growing in size. “Taken?” She echoed incredulously. “And your families have no choice but to give you up?”

“They have a choice,” Obi-Wan informed her assuringly. For Force’s sake, the Jedi weren’t _monsters_ ; he needed the girl to realize that before she got on a roll. “But usually, parents are a bit frightened when their children possess the ability to perform… _unusual_ things. So, they normally don’t mind it when we are taken off their hands—some even think of it as a relief.”

“That’s terrible,” Satine said compassionately. “And your parents did the same to you?”

“I suppose.” Obi-Wan picked up a few sticks from the ground distractedly and stuffed them within his cloak, collecting the extra that the duchess handed him as well. “I was three-years-old when I was brought to the Temple. The Jedi who discovered me claimed they spotted me in the midst of a cornfield with my older brother, levitating a pile of rocks in the air.”

He wasn’t sure, but the boy thought the raise of Satine’s brow was one of impressment. “Wow,” she breathed. “And then what happened?”

Obi-Wan shot her another skeptical sideways glance but didn’t answer right away; why was she so determined to pester him with questions all of a sudden? They had been at each other’s throats all day, and _now_ she was attempting casual, peaceful conversation? 

“I’m not sure,” he replied truthfully. “I don’t know very much about them. And as a Jedi, I really shouldn’t as it would be pointing to what some may call an attachment.” 

A long quietude filled the air when Satine suddenly asked, “Well, do you like being a Jedi?”

Head whirling toward her in surprise, Obi-Wan’s jaw almost dropped in disbelief at the ridiculousness of her question. Of course he liked being a Jedi! It was his life, for Force’s sake! How did she not understand that? 

“Of course I do,” he replied stiffly, if a bit defensively. “Why would you ask that?”

Now it was Satine’s turn to register the expression of appearing offended. “Forgive me for simply being curious,” she responded flatly, lips curling downward in what looked to be annoyance. “I was just asking because the way you explained it makes it seem as if the Jedi life was _chosen_ for you.”

“It was _my_ choice,” Obi-Wan shot back almost instantly.

“Really?” Satine placed her hands on her hips, shooting him an amused cock of her eyebrow. “ _You_ chose to abandon your family for the Jedi Order at the age of three? Forgive me for being blunt, but I’m quite certain you were hardly able to form complete sentences at that age, let alone understand that you were changing your very way of life.”

“I didn’t _abandon_ my family.” For a person so-usually attuned to their emotions and how to control them, Obi-Wan found his words flooding with a passion he hadn’t heard himself speak with before. “In case you weren’t listening, I informed you that _they_ were the ones who handed me off to the Jedi without batting an eye. _Not_ the other way around.” When pausing with his outburst, the boy found the appalled expression of the duchess’ features quite satisfying. It appeared as if he stunned her into silence, and while that was a great accomplishment, he wasn’t finished yet.

“So, if I were you, I’d change the wording of your sentence: _I_ didn’t abandon my family—in all truth, they abandoned _me_.” Obi-Wan plucked another set of sticks off the ground, shoving them inside his pocket rather aggressively. “Oh, and by the way, I’m _not_ stupid. Of course I didn’t make the decision to leave my home at the age of three, but I _chose_ to stay within the Order and make a living there. I _chose_ to grow up in the Temple and become a Jedi. It’s not as if they _imprison_ us there if we have wishes to leave. We have the ability to _choose_.”

His monologue seemed to have a great effect on the young duchess, but to Obi-Wan’s disappointment, it was short-lived. Before he knew it, her ponderous gaze had made a dramatic return, and she observed him silently, as if carefully contemplating her next words.

“I see your point,” she began slowly, “but in the end, is it _really_ your choice? You grew up in the Temple, Obi-Wan. It’s the only life you’ve ever known. If you made the decision to leave, what life would you have if you weren’t a Jedi anymore? Would you even know what to do with yourself once out in the world, all on our own?”

The boy opened to his mouth to rattle off a reply, but in the end, he didn’t surface with one. Instead, his lips remained parted, all quips and answers leaving him abandoned. The use of his name by the duchess had already put him off a great deal—it somehow making him gravelly uncomfortable—but now, the girl was truly making him think.

 _And_ self doubt himself.

He liked being a Jedi…didn’t he? If he felt any desire to leave in the past, he would have done it, wouldn’t he have? Obi-Wan’s heart began to slowly drop as the events of Melida/Daan washed over his memory, the recollection of him leaving the Order to aid the Young in the war overwhelming him greatly. The moment the war had ended, he had been re-accepted by the Jedi and made a home once again amidst the Temple…but he had returned to the Order because he had truly wanted to, hadn’t he? 

Force, the duchess was nearly making him dizzy in all his confusion. Why hadn’t he ever endured such thoughts before? Not once had Obi-Wan doubted himself when it came to the Jedi Order and their ways of life, but then, this _girl_ came along and made a mess of things. 

She was really pushing him to his limits.

But then, to his relief—or not—Obi-Wan didn’t have time to reply when the sound of rustling within the trees abruptly jerked his attention away from the discussion. Almost instantly his senses perked up reflexively as he quickly scanned their surroundings, attentively searching for any danger. 

“Did you hear it too?” Satine asked him softly.

Obi-Wan nodded affirmatively, holding a finger to his lips in a muted instruction to remain silent. He returned his focus to their surroundings, a wave of uneasiness washing over him at the quietude they were now cast in. 

_Too_ quiet, he observed worriedly, allowing his eyes to drift closed as he concentrated.

Reaching out into the depths of the Force was when he sensed it. His blue-grey eyes snapped open from their meditative state frantically, and he whirled around to face the duchess, expertly erasing the alarm from his features in just the nick of time.

“We need to go.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Satine’s penetrating eyes bore through his seriously as she made her way to turn and head back to their campsite, and Obi-Wan was just about to hurry after her when a deep, menacing chuckle filled the air. His heart skipped a beat as he tore his gaze back forward, just in time to witness three large figures emerge from within the trees, as if they had just appeared out of thin air. 

Shame immediately rolled off Obi-Wan at his inability to sense their presences a while earlier. _Curse_ the duchess and her brooding discussions, he thought darkly. He had allowed his confusion to unbalance him, thus, making his awareness in the Force muddled. 

And now they were both paying for it.   
  
“Now, hold on, where do you think you’re going?” Came the even, calm, but extremely threatening voice of the middle figure. The darkness cast around them left Obi-Wan unable to make out the silhouette’s features, but now that it had spoken, it was clear that he was a man. 

“Don’t go,” came the ominous order from the second figure, a hand reaching out to them, one that held a large, shiny blaster, the dangerous glint on the metal gleaming brightly from the moonlight. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Although he couldn’t see it, Obi-Wan heard the smile within the third figure’s voice the moment she spoke up. A female, this time. 

“Looks as if you two have got yourself some company.”   
  


* * *

  
“This will all be easy if you just cooperate,” said the first figure, taking a daring step toward the two youths, the smirk on his face only barely visible in the darkness. “Simply just hand over the girl, and then the three of us will be on our way.”

Satine swallowed thickly, the threat of hot tears streaming down her cheeks in fear suddenly a great one. Although, she fiercely kept that at bay, determined to not let a single one fall.

Turning her gaze to the boy beside her, the duchess caught sight of the fire gleaming within his sapphire blue eyes. Obi-Wan stood in front of her protectively, one hand pushing her behind him to safety. One moment of pure instinct nearly had her dashing away in the opposite direction while he fended the bounty hunters off, but she shook off the temptation in horror, recoiling at her selfishness; Obi-Wan needed _help_.

There was no way she was abandoning him.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” came the voice of the second figure, the tone calm, collected, and _frightening_. Satine shivered at the sound, chills running up her spine at its eeriness. “Just hand her over, and things will be perfectly fine.”

With a fervent shake of his head, Obi-Wan placed one gentle hand on Satine’s shoulder, slowly guiding her away from her captors. His cold gaze never left the bounty hunters, though, as if he feared something might happen if he turned away for even a moment. Satine couldn’t deny that she admired him for that. 

“I wouldn’t walk away if I were you.” This time, the duchess wasn’t even the slightest bit aware of who had spoken this time, but she didn’t care; the threat was already mencacing enough. 

“Leave us be,” Obi-Wan ordered firmly, his expression lacking even an ounce of fear. 

“You have someone that could be of great importance to us.” The third figure this time, Satine was almost certain of it. Her voice was significantly higher than her companions, a clear indication that she was a female. “Now, hand her over or there _will_ be consequences.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the boy shot back, the intensity flooding his voice impressively matching the three bounty hunters combined. 

“A great mistake, then.” The first figure let out a scoff and made his way closer to them. Once near enough to identify him under the glint of the moonlight, Satine’s nose wrinkled up in disgust at the sight of him. A large, burly man with leathery skin, a mop of brown hair, and eyes black and dark, filled with nothing but threat stared back into the duchess’ own. 

She shuddered.

His fingers were fat and meaty, tauntingly fiddling with the trigger of his blaster. Satine watched his hand closely, waiting for any moment where he might lift it up and shoot without warning. But to her relief, he didn’t, only staring at her ominously. 

It was then when the second figure emerged from within the shadows, revealing the slimy features of a Trandoshan. His scaly green skin radiated in the darkness around them, the redness of his eyes alight with viciousness. Securely holstered at his belt was a rifle, a blaster also held in one of his enormous hands, as if one weapon simply wasn’t enough. 

But it was when the third figure exposed herself did Satine truly feel sick to her stomach. 

A young woman, she observed in horror. A _beautiful_ young woman, with short thick waves of auburn hair that tousled around her face in the night breeze. Her bright, unmistakable olive green eyes shone darkly, seemingly not a single ounce of sympathy lying inside them. The smallest of smirks played amusedly on her thin lips, too, clearly enjoying the sight of the two youths standing before her struggling to decide on what to do or how to escape.

Satine couldn’t deny it was a bit unsettling to be staring face-to-face with a young woman who resembled an older version of her younger sister so accurately it was making her stomach do flips; although, the appearance of the woman was instantly where the similarities ended, much to her relief.

_Bo would never turn against me._

A harsh voice cutting through the thickness of the air had the duchess’ head jerking back to the first figure attentively, ashamed for allowing her mind to drift off when in a situation as drastic as the current one she was trapped in. 

_Focus,_ she inwardly willed herself.

“I’m going to give you one last chance to hand over the girl.” It was evident that the first man was growing impatient. All traces of calmness lingering in his face had vanished, leaving nothing a scowl in its place. Satine gulped at the sight of his grasp on his blaster tightening. “And if you don’t, I promise you: all hell will break loose.”

“I’m going to give _you_ three one last chance to run for the hills.” The steadiness within Obi-Wan’s voice was bone chilling. The duchess wasn’t sure she had heard him sound so authoritative. That voice filled her with a sense of protection and security, as if things perhaps wouldn’t end as badly as she feared they would. “Or, all hell will break loose for _you_.”

The red-haired woman scoffed haughtily. “This one’s confident.”

The Trandoshan grinned at her. “Let’s see what he’s made of.”

And with that, the first man aimed his blaster directly at Satine and fired.

She heard a blood-curdling scream and wondered who on earth was making such a loud noise when she realized in horror that it was _herself_.

But then, a sapphire blue whir filled her vision, and before the duchess could process what just happened, the bullet was ricocheting off the trees wildly. The three bounty hunters yelled in warning to one another before bending over and shielding themselves reflexively. Once he was sure he was no longer under the threat of being hit by his own shot, the first man rose to his feet dauntingly, glaring at the sight of Obi-Wan and his bright blue saber held in front of him and Satine with both hands protectively.

“He’s a Jedi,” Satine heard him murmur.

“Blast it,” came the hiss from the red-haired woman.

“I warned you.” The furrow of Obi-Wan’s ginger brow was one of conflict, an indication that he clearly wasn’t enjoying enacting the threat of violence but would do so if it allowed him to complete his mission. Satine stared into the depths of his bright blue eyes, their color matching the radiance of his lightsaber. “Do that one more time, and I’ll have no choice but to deflect it somewhere painful.”

“Jedi are supposedly _peacekeepers_ , right?” The Trandoshan taunted, sharing a chuckle with the first man in amusement. “Doesn’t look like you’re following that example very well.”

“I will take whatever actions are necessary when it comes to protecting the duchess,” the boy informed him sharply, the hold on his weapon visibly tightening. “Even if it means maiming or eliminating any of you.”

“Oh, really?” The first man smiled a large smile, exposing his bright, white, and perfect teeth, but to Satine it all looked wrong; nothing but twisted evil and heartlessness lingered within it. “Let’s see how well you handle this.”

“Don’t test me.” Obi-Wan didn’t break any of their gazes.

“We’ll do whatever the kark we want,” the Trandoshan laughed in return. “You’re only a boy.”

“I wouldn’t make this a game,” Obi-Wan advised them calmly. “I have the perfect amount of capability to wipe the three of you out in mere moments.”

None of the bounty hunters offered replies. Instead, they all exchanged scowls with each other before aiming their blasters directly at the two youths and firing simultaneously. Satine let out another shriek against her will and ducked behind Obi-Wan for safety, only to gasp when an ear-splitting howl of pain pierced the air less than a moment later.

When she revealed herself from behind her protector, the duchess caught sight of the first man nursing his upper arm tenderly, his blaster discarded on the ground uselessly. When he pulled his hand away from his shoulder to fetch the weapon and growl at Obi-Wan menacingly, Satine’s eyes widened at the blood spilling freely down his clothes and arm. 

“If you shoot one more time, you will only regret it,” said the even, steady voice of the boy still standing guard in front of Satine. Instantly realizing what he meant, she fought to keep her tears at bay. Even as horrible as these bounty hunters truly were, she had no wish to witness them be brutalized at the hand of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.

She needed the boy to know that.

“Obi-Wan.” The duchess tugged gently at his tunic, resulting in his bright eyes to dart in her direction while still keeping his head turned forward. “Do _not_ kill them if it isn’t necessary.”

“I very much wish it hadn’t come to this, Duchess, but I’m afraid I’m running out of options,” came the tart response.

“Just maim them!”

“If I were to do _that_ , they’d still be able to feed their allies information on us!”

“Obi-Wan!”

“Duchess, please!”

Satine didn’t have time to fire back a retort before another bullet zipped their way, and Obi-Wan expertly deflected it, sending it back towards the three bounty hunters, who very luckily spun their way out of being shot. Glowering now more than ever, they opened fire on the two youths once again, this time the Trandoshan whipping out his rifle while at it. Satine gaped at the size of the weapon as the slimy creature knelt and aimed it directly at Obi-Wan’s legs.

“Obi-Wan, he’s going for your legs!” She shouted while the boy crazily deflected shot after shot, seemingly far too distracted to notice such a thing. However, his eyes flicked over to Satine for the briefest moment before landing on the Trandoshan ready to shoot before narrowing in determination.

And just as the Trandoshan fired, and it came hurtling right towards the boy’s legs, Obi-Wan focusedly sent another shot colliding with the bullet, resulting in Satine’s vision to flood white for a brief moment as the explosion carried her backwards and sprawling onto her back. She stared dazedly at the dark sky, blinking her sight back into focus when the blurry form of Obi-Wan was hovering over her, his features contorted in alarm.

“Satine!” He exclaimed, placing his hands behind her back as he slowly guided her into a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

The duchess quickly examined herself, and when she felt confident enough that she held no injuries, she managed a short shake of her head in return, quickly rising to her feet and brushing the dust off her clothes busily.

She wasn’t certain, but a sound that somewhat resembled a huff of amazement escaped Obi-Wan’s mouth before his face returned back to its focused state. “You need to run,” he instructed her. “Run back to our campsite. Don’t look back.”

“What?” Satine jerked her head back to the three bounty hunters lying on the ground, the Trandoshan limp and lifeless, while the other two were slowly regaining their bearings. It was evident that they would be coming around soon. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” the boy assured her. “Go find Master Qui-Gon; I’ve already alerted him of the situation, and he should be on his way.”

Satine was about to ask him to elaborate on this when he shoved her in the opposite direction. “Go!” He exclaimed as she broke off into a full sprint. “I’ll meet you there!”

And as much as she hated the thought of leaving Obi-Wan in the dreadful hands of the bounty hunters, Satine darted through the dark forest, her tears rimming the red edges of her sky blue eyes guiltily.

She didn’t look back.   
  


* * *

  
The sight of Satine hurriedly rushing through the trees and away from Obi-Wan was one that he welcomed with gratitude. As long as the duchess was deemed safe and protected, he had completed his mission.

Almost instantly his dream was shattered when he watched two out of the three bounty hunters stagger to their feet in horror. The first man resurfaced with a scowl, dark eyes gleaming frighteningly within the smoke floating around him. The woman clutched her head painfully, the crease between her ginger brow and the squint of her olive green eyes an indication of a severe concussion, but nevertheless, she looked downright furious at nearly being blown to bits.

Obi-Wan needed a plan.

Observing that the Trandoshan’s presence within the Force was empty, almost echoing back toward him as if he were in a cavern, the boy quickly concluded that the creature was dead and sagged a bit in relief; one less bounty hunter for him to worry about was a blessing.

 _Master,_ he called through the bond he shared with the elder Jedi, _planning on arriving anytime soon?_

An eerie silence was his reply. 

Obi-Wan sighed and secured his hold on his lightsaber. Hopefully Qui-Gon’s silence meant that he was far too busy with the duchess to send a reply. The boy had learned over the course of nearly two weeks that Satine had a way of stirring up alarm and distress in her own twisted, dramatic way. 

He wasn’t sure whether it annoyed or amused him quite yet.

 _Padawan._ Qui-Gon’s deep, steady voice filled Obi-Wan with a flood of peace almost immediately. Their bond was alight with focus as the elder Jedi was attempting to pinpoint the exact location the boy was currently residing in through the Force. _I’m on my way._

 _Things are getting a little heated down here._ Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as he fended off a wave of blaster bolts aimed his way, agiley hurling them directly back to their shooters. _They both appear to be a bit peeved_ _at me for killing their friend._

He sensed a surge of shock filter through the Force as Qui-Gon halted in his steps for a brief moment. _You killed one of them?_

 _I didn’t have a choice, Master,_ the boy informed him matter-of-factly. _I’ll explain later, just…do please hurry, if you will._

And with that, their bond faded into the Force so the two Jedi could easily devote their concentration on their own tasks. Obi-Wan watched as the two bounty hunters screamed at each other over the crossfire, clearly in the midst of an argument.

“This is worthless!” The woman shouted as she wildly pressed the trigger of her blaster repeatedly, sending blast after blast zipping toward the boy who only ended up deflecting them over and over again. “The duchess is gone, so we may as well just leave!”

“If we get rid of this little twerp now, the girl will only have one Jedi protector left, which will make our lives that much easier!” The first man hollered back, plucking the discarded rifle from the ground that had once belonged to the Trandoshan with his uninjured arm and setting it into position. “Think logically here!”

“I’m not the one trying to use a rifle with a wounded arm!” The woman snarled. “We need to leave, regroup, heal, and come up with a new plan! We’re sitting ducks if we stay here!”

“Not that you’d likely take my opinion into consideration, but I must say I wholeheartedly agree with her,” Obi-Wan chimed in calmly, sending a ricochet of bullets spiraling into trees. “We can’t just keep going on like this, forever, now can we?”

“Oh, shut up!” The first man screeched at him, manically continuing to ready his rifle and kneeling into a crouching position. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you, huh? Well, let’s see how smart you feel when you’re blown to smithereens and charred to the bone.”

And with that, he shot, the bullet screaming right toward Obi-Wan, but before it made contact with his beating heart, the boy gracefully deflected it with one swipe of his blue blade and sent it directly back into the first man’s _own_ chest. Upon the impact, the bounty hunter instantly sagged and toppled backward, collapsing into a heap on the grass and growing eerily still. 

The look of horror etched on the woman’s face at the realization of her now-dead partner had Obi-Wan almost feeling regretful for his actions, but he rapidly reminded himself that he had acted in self-defense. 

What would they have done to the duchess had he not been there to protect her and ensure her safety?

A chill ran down the boy’s spine at the mere thought of it.

 _The duchess is safe, Padawan,_ Qui-Gon ensured him through their bond, causing the tension in Obi-Wan’s shoulders to gradually ease. _I have her hidden where she won’t be found. How is everything over there holding up?_

 _I’ve been better,_ he replied back shortly. _Two down, one to go._

Their bond flickered for a brief moment as the Jedi Master hesitated. 

_Dead?_

This time, a trickle of guilt spilled into the Force against the boy’s will. 

_Yes._

After sharing this, Obi-Wan focused his sheer concentration on the infuriated woman standing before him, guns blazing wildly and erratically. Her olive green eyes were gleaming dangerously as she fired shot after shot, seemingly giving off the impression that she would never cease. Her rage within the Force was unmistakable; clearly she had been close to the two bounty hunters whom Obi-Wan had killed.

“Stop!” He suddenly shouted.

Startled, the woman halted, the hate lingering in her eyes vanishing for a short moment as they widened involuntarily. She stood there, waiting for him to speak again, but it was evident she was hanging by a threat; one more witty remark, and she would be shooting at him again, Obi-Wan knew.

“I didn’t want things to end this way,” he began slowly, the grief stricken on the woman’s face at his words an indication that he truly sounded sincere, which was precisely the truth. Killing and taking another’s life…no matter how many times Obi-Wan had been forced to do so on missions, the realization of it always made him sick to his stomach. “I _warned_ the three of you, but you didn’t listen…”

The boy was then abruptly cut off by the ringing of gunfire blazing toward him and easily deflected and cast it to the side. Facing only one bounty hunter left him far more reasonable ways of self defense, which he was eternally grateful for. The woman now held two blasters in her hands, the menacing glint of her eyes and disgusted curl of her lip leaving no room for mercy.

“One last chance,” he told her quietly, silently praying she would take him up on his opportunity. “Leave, and never bother us again, or there will be consequences.” Readjusting his hold on his lightsaber, Obi-Wan hoped the threat was intimidating enough. 

A long silence following after that had the boy nearly convinced the woman had come to see reason when she released a wild cry and proceeded to shoot at him manically, the blaster bolts zipping his way endlessly. Obi-Wan deflected them with a long suffering sigh before coming to the conclusion of his next plan.

Extending out one hand, his lightsaber firmly held in the other, Obi-Wan called out to the Force and pulled the guns out of the woman’s hands with ease. She gasped at the realization, face rapidly paling as her weapons landed into Obi-Wan’s instead. Then, quickly and expertly, the boy threw her backwards into the nearest tree, suppressing a wince at the sound of her skull harshly making contact with the wood before she crumpled into a heap on the grass, unmoving. 

It was then when Qui-Gon emerged from within the trees, rapidly soaking in the sight before his eyes observantly. They then landed on Obi-Wan, who was currently staring at the three subdued bounty hunters in silence while tucking the two blasters within the depths of his cloak. He sensed his master’s presence behind him but didn’t turn.

“Looks as if you handled everything yourself just fine.”

“Took you long enough, didn’t it, Master?”

“Are all three dead?”

“Just the two.” Obi-Wan deactivated his weapon and holstered it back onto his belt with a grimace, finally turning to face the elder Jedi guiltily. “The woman is only rendered unconscious, but she should be coming around soon.”

“Why only kill the males and not her?” The boy flinched at the question and hesitated before replying. There was no trace of judgement within Qui-Gon’s words—he was very well aware of that—simply just curiosity, but it still made his stomach churn. He hadn’t wanted to kill _anybody…_

“I felt as if I didn’t have a choice, Master,” he admitted quietly. “If I hadn’t used extreme measures, they wouldn’t have backed down. I gave them plenty of warnings, but they didn’t comply. They didn’t care about anything I said. The woman…” His eyes darted over to the limp form laying still on the grass before clearing his throat and continuing. “She was the last one left. I didn’t think it was worth killing her when she was all alone. I simply figured we could escape before she wakes, and…”

“Good call, my young Padawan.” Qui-Gon gently placed a hand atop the boy’s shoulder and sent him a crooked smile, much to Obi-Wan’s relief. The elder Jedi didn’t state it outloud, but it was clear through the Force that he understood his apprentice’s conflict wholeheartedly. Obi-Wan was very thankful for that.

“Did you hit her noggin hard enough for her to be completely and utterly confused when she wakes up?” The teasing glint inside Qui-Gon’s eyes allowed for a soft snort to escape Obi-Wan’s mouth against his will.

“Of course, Master,” he replied good-naturedly without missing a beat.

“I certainly hope so, Padawan mine.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan gestured for the elder Jedi to lead the way to the duchess, who did so without any witty comments this time, much to the boy’s relief. When Satine emerged from the bottom of a ditch that had been impressively concealed within a deep thicket a few minutes later, Obi-Wan felt the remainder of his adrenaline falter at the sight of her in consolation; she was safe.

“Are you alright?” She asked him, those large, wide, sky blue eyes of her terribly difficult to tear his attention away from. Obi-Wan studied her closely and noticed that her hands were clamped to her sides, as if she were doing everything in her power to keep them there.

“I’m fine,” he assured her with a smile, unaware of how weary it came off across.

“That’s…good,” Satine managed tightly, her own lips curling up in what appeared to be relief.

“As much as I’m aware of how tired we are all, staying here isn’t an option,” Qui-Gon informed them, jerking the two youths' attention from one another to him instead. “The woman survived, and she’ll be looking for us soon and summoning more of her allies.”

“We have to keep walking?” The duchess’ question came across as more of a whimper.

“The longer we stay here, the larger chance of them finding us.” Qui-Gon’s deep blue eyes bore into hers intently. “The price on your head is doubling with nearly each and every passing day, Duchess.”

Obi-Wan watched Satine swallow thickly.

“We need to move fast.”

“Before they find us,” the girl concluded, resulting in the boy’s eyes to slightly widen at the authority emboldened within her voice. “I understand.”

Qui-Gon smiled gently at her. “Good.”

Then, quickly handing one backpack to Obi-Wan, who deftly slid it over his shoulders and adjusting his own, the Jedi Master, his Padawan, and the duchess started down the path of yet another adventure, uncertain of what the next day would bring, but hopeful.

It was all they could be at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...things are already beginning to escalate, huh? Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, please comment if you’d like to see anything else in this story—requests are welcome!
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: The First Evacuation


	4. The First Evacuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio quickly comes to the conclusion that staying on Mandalore probably isn’t the best idea, but of course trouble seems to follow them wherever they go.

“Draboon?”

Satine nodded in confirmation. “It’s the closest planet.”

Master Jinn fixed her with a ponderous gaze, methodically stroking his chestnut-colored beard. His deep blue eyes were contemplative, but the young duchess somehow found in them a sense of security, the look lingering within them that read he would do everything in his power to ensure her protection, and Satine was grateful for that.

She liked Master Jinn. 

“And…how are we planning on getting there?” Obi-Wan asked from behind her.

Opening her mouth to reply, it was then when it occurred to Satine that she had absolutely no idea. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment as she failed to supply the two Jedi with an answer. Their ship had been blown to smithereens a week earlier, thus, supplying the threesome with no transportation—or even a way off the planet.

“Are you sure we have to change locations in such a drastic way?” Satine questioned them. “Surely we can just take heavier precautions when it comes to running into bounty hunters, can’t we?”

“You don’t think we were already doing that?” Obi-Wan cocked an unimpressed ginger eyebrow at her, tightly crossing his arms. “As if I _wanted_ those bounty hunters to confront and nearly kill us last night.”

_“Padawan.”_

“Yes, Master?” The boy asked innocently.

A long, heated silence passed as Satine glared bullets at Obi-Wan, barely containing her agitation when to her surprise, he suddenly blinked owlishly at her, those blue-grey eyes widening in what appeared to be shock.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, wearily swiping a hand down his face. “That was uncalled for, Duchess. I’m just so tired—“

“I understand.” Satine shot him a knowing expression in return. “I believe we all are.”

“True words,” Master Jinn agreed. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe we’d be able to settle down and make camp if we tried; one lesson learned from last night is that there are officially eyes _everywhere_. We cannot turn our backs for even a moment in fear of being ambushed.”

“Yes, but, _again_ , how are we planning on leaving the planet?” Obi-Wan inquired again, although this time, his tone had softened. Satine studied him for a short moment, gaze focusing on the small quirk of his brow as he pondered and tore her eyes away before she could stare any longer. Just the _sight_ of him…for some strange reason, it was an incredibly difficult task not to continue watching him. 

“Staying on Mandalore isn’t an option,” Master Jinn said. “We’ve already had four near run-ins with bounty hunters _today_ alone. And…” he glanced pointedly at Obi-Wan. “The woman will certainly want to seek revenge on you for killing her partners.”

“I warned them,” the boy insisted.

“They didn’t listen,” Satine chimed in, wanting to come to his aid. In all truth, she hadn’t wanted Obi-Wan to kill the bounty hunters, either, but it was evident that he hadn’t had a choice, and she understood that wholeheartedly.

_Desperate times called for desperate measures._

Little did she know how much she would come to despise that thought later in her life.

“It’s alright.” Master Jinn sent his apprentice a nod of understanding, the guilt in the boy’s eyes rapidly fading at the elder Jedi’s warm hand resting on his shoulder. “We just need to take heavier precautions. _And_ find a way off this planet.”

“The only idea I can think of is somehow sneaking back into Sundari and taking a transport,” Satine admitted shyly, already waiting for the incredulous looks about to be cast her way at her ridiculous suggestion. “There really isn’t any other way…”

Instead, to her surprise, she was met with long-suffering sighs. Then, to her amazement, _reluctant_ nods, but nods. Obi-Wan stood out as the far more hesitant one of the two, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his sleeve while Master Jinn ran a hand down his face tiredly, as if he wanted anything but to approve the young duchess’ idea.

“I hate that I have to agree,” he finally concluded slowly.

“Jedi don’t hate, Master,” Obi-Wan reminded him.

“Oh, hush.”

Satine couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the boy’s statement; over the short span of time knowing Obi-Wan Kenobi, she had been quick to note how little he strayed from the Jedi Code and how _repeatedly_ he hassled his master in doing the same. Before she had begun her new life with the Jedi, the duchess didn’t have a clue as to how they lived their lives, but now, nearly three weeks into their expedition, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been able to recite the entire Code by heart. Obi-Wan simply brought it up _that_ much.

It irritated her.

And then before Satine could stop herself, she rattled off mockingly, fingers wiggling sarcastically in the air, “Of course, ‘ _there is no emotion, there is peace’._ Yes, yes, we all know. You’ve only reminded us about five thousand times.”

If looks could kill, she certainly would have been dead with the one Obi-Wan hurled her way with his bright blue eyes gleaming angrily. He didn’t, however, utter one word in return, most likely in fear of suffering the wrath of his master. A small part of Satine was grateful for no witty comeback; she didn’t think anyone of them contained the energy for another miserable argument.

But it didn’t mean the boy couldn’t send her a message through his eyes. 

And Satine definitely received it.

She just glared back at him. Harder.

“That’s enough, you two,” Master Jinn ordered them firmly, tightly crossing his arms. “What, do you think I’m _blind_ and unable to catch the argument roaring between your eyes?”

Before she could control herself, Satine felt her cheeks furiously flush in embarrassment at being called out, but she didn’t offer a word in return. Obi-Wan’s deadly expression had softened a great deal as well; now, he was anxiously running a hand through his thick ginger hair, blue eyes as wide as a tooka when it was caught misbehaving.

It was then when a hidden, yet to be uncovered part of the duchess’ heart would have found the young Jedi’s boyishness attractive. That was, however, if she hadn’t had such a desire to smack him upside the head for being so obnoxious.

Just the mere thought and sight of Obi-Wan had her blushing furiously for reasons she couldn’t explain and seething while at it at his stubbornness. He was just _that_ frustrating.

“Let’s just find something to eat, and then we’ll leave for Sundari right after,” Master Jinn decided, swiping another hand down his face for what seemed like the thousandth time. Satine really did feel guilty for being unable to maintain her temper; some days she swore she and Obi-Wan were sending the elder Jedi to an early grave.

Stars’, she definitely needed to work on not allowing the boy to dig into her skin as much as he did. It would drive her insane one of these days, she was sure of it.

“I’ll go catch some fish,” Obi-Wan volunteered, already spinning on his heel to trudge back deeper into the forest and look for the nearest river or stream. He seemed particularly itching to desperately leave the area _and_ the awkward conversation. Satine really couldn’t blame him.

And yet, some evil part inside her longed to irritate him further.

“Don’t you need a _net_ to do that?” She challenged smartly.

“I’ll catch them the natural way,” Obi-Wan shot over his shoulder.

“And which way is _that_?”

“You’ll have to see, Duchess.”

Fists clenching angrily, it took every fiber inside Satine to suppress her urge to yell at Obi-Wan’s unnatural yet unbelievable skill at mixing irritation _and_ sarcasm into one sentence. And to add to her frustration, the boy didn’t even spin his head around to look at her, giving off the impression that he wasn’t even trying his hardest at driving her insane.

That he could try _much_ harder if he truly wanted to.

“I hope the fish bite you,” Satine found herself muttering.

“Now, now, now, is that a nice way to talk to your protectors?” Master Jinn asked her teasingly, that ever-so-familiar sparkle twinkling in his deep blue eyes. The young duchess soon felt sheepish and ashamed at her dreadful wish, nervously intertwining her fingers inside her sleeves.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, timidly making a seat for herself on the green grass.

“It’s alright,” the Jedi Master assured her kindly. “I know he can be a handful.”

“How do you do it?” Satine asked him.

He fixed her with a curious look. “Do what?”

“Teach him, handle him, _live_ with him! He…” she sputtered on her words, feeling her rage rapidly rushing up her spine. “He just…has an answer for _everything_! How in the name of all good things in the galaxy do you keep up with him?”

“Who do you think he got it from?” Master Jinn fixed her with a large grin, one so wide she couldn’t help but blow out a huff of laughter at the crazy expression. He joined in, allowing a soft chuckle to escape his mouth before continuing. “Obi-Wan has always had a gift with words, and while I myself can be very quick-witted as well, I’m most definitely certain he didn’t inherit it from me.”

“Really?” Satine’s laughter died down to smiling, but it was sincere. “Do you two argue often?”

“Of course we do. It’s only natural.”

“Why does he argue with _me_ so much?” Satine couldn’t help but question, then adding ashamedly, “Am I just an easy target?”

“If you were an easy target, he would eventually grow tired of picking on you and stop.” Master Jinn began collecting sticks from the ground and mixing them together, likely to start a fire to cook the fish when Obi-Wan returned. “My theory is that he feels challenged by you—probably because you’re as sharp as him when it comes to arguments, if not even sharper, and he wants to prove to you that he’s capable. But then again, my Padawan is _never_ normally one to trigger discussions that could potentially lead to arguments.”

“Why is he now, then?” Satine looked at him seriously.

She was a bit taken aback when the Jedi met her gaze this time, tearing deep blue eyes away from his task of creating a small fire for even a mere moment to focus on her. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it, as if deciding against whatever he had to say.

“I’m not sure,” he replied thoughtfully.

The sound of boots making their way toward the Jedi Master and duchess had Satine jerking out of her musings to catch sight of Obi-Wan entering the clearing, a large pile of fresh fish sitting inside his cloak that he carefully held in both hands. Gawking at him, she was about to question the boy on how he had supplied them with dinner so quickly, but Master Jinn beat her to it.

“Care to explain how you caught so many fish in less than five minutes?”

Obi-Wan simply shrugged, uninterested. “It would be a boring story, Master.”

And with that, he laid his cloak on the ground, the fish sitting neatly within the depths of the hood. Quickly estimating how many fish were inside, Satine did her best to hide her shock _and_ impressment.

“Six?” She gazed down at the food sitting before her hungrily, already feeling her stomach begin to gurgle at the sight. “Two for each of us?”

Obi-Wan met her gaze and nodded.

“Sounds great to me.” Master Jinn shot the boy an appreciative smile and collected another stick from the ground, reaching for the fish at the top of the pile and impaling it. Then, he held it over the slowly growing fire, watching it gradually begin to cook excitedly. Quickly catching onto his enthusiasm, Satine followed his actions and supplied herself with her own fish. Once roasted perfectly—in her opinion, at least—she dug in happily, unable to erase the content smile from her face as she took bite after bite.

As much as the duchess hated to admit it, she turned toward Obi-Wan and thanked him, fully aware that had he not gone to scout for food, the threesome would be starving and at one another’s throats even more ferociously.

He smiled at her and said, “of course.”

Returning her attention to her food, Satine caught Master Jinn’s eye before she took another bite, and he smiled at her knowingly, the message within his eyes reading: _well done._ She returned the expression, already preparing for her second fish once she was finished with the first, stomach still rumbling pathetically.

She needed all the strength and energy she could get.   
  


* * *

  
It was the dead of night by the time they reached Sundari.

To see her kingdom—a kingdom that seemed a whole entire lifetime ago perfectly stable and strong—so wrecked and disastrous, as if it had been rampaged through like it had been nothing to begin with, was a sickening experience for Satine to endure. Her eyes pricked with hot tears, but she refused to allow them to fall, adjusting the hood over her head more tightly in hopes to conceal herself better.

What she was intending to hide—her identity or her weakness—the young duchess wasn’t quite sure, but she didn’t have any intent on asking herself for an answer.

“Duchess?” Master Jinn placed a soft hand on her shoulder, dragging her painful gaze on her once beautiful kingdom and toward him instead. 

“Yes…?” Satine whispered back. It was all she could do to suppress her choked sobs that were threatening to make their way to the surface.

“We need to hurry.”

Rapidly understanding the meaning behind the Jedi Master’s words, the young duchess nodded numbly and trailed after him and Obi-Wan without any response. Master Jinn was telling her not to pay any mind to the chaos unfolding around them, but how could she not when these were _her_ people who were suffering? The people _she_ had been born into the task of protecting?

It was almost an impossible task for Satine to bear.

“What kind of transport are we looking for?” She asked softly, desperately trying to pull her attention on something else. 

“Shuttle,” Master Jinn informed her. “They’re small but fast, and the trip to Draboon shouldn’t be too long anyway, right?”

“Only a few hours.” Satine glanced warily at their surroundings for what felt like the thousandth time before continuing her pace forward, quickening it a bit more every time she heard even the smallest sound.

They weren’t safe. She had a strange sensation pooling in the bottom of her stomach.

“We need to get to the hangar bay.”

Master Jinn gave her a nod. “I’m not precisely certain on the exact location, but I believe it’s—“

“Underneath the palace,” Satine finished. 

“What?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow confusedly.

“Mandalore used to have many enemies,” she informed him. “And unfortunately, we _still_ do. The hangar bay was built under the palace for secrecy; we never knew who we could trust when preparing to travel off-world. When we managed to make peace with some of our enemies, my father intended to have it rebuilt in front of the palace as a sign of no more seclusiveness, but as you can see…” she trailed off, heart aching at the memory of her parents. “He didn’t get a chance.”

There was a silence after that. Satine searched the seemingly impassive expressions of the Jedi, instantly feeling like a fool at showing even a trace of emotion until Master Jinn suddenly placed a comforting hand on her shoulder again. His deep blue eyes were soft. She nearly melted at their gentleness; every time she had even a thought of the powerful Jedi Master being insensitive, he proved her otherwise every single time.

“Are you alright?” He asked her.

Nodding in what she hoped looked like a reassuring manner, the young duchess forced a tight smile. “Yes.”

“We really should be going,” Obi-Wan chimed in quietly, almost timidly. He seemed a bit sheepish for ruining the moment, but Satine caught the compassion lingering in his blue-grey eyes along with a silent apology. She appreciated it.

“Do you know a way into the palace?” Master Jinn asked her.

“I do. Follow me.”

The farther they ventured into the kingdom, the more uneasy Satine became. The stillness layering around them was far too chilling to ignore, and the fact that not even a single soul stood in sight only made matters worse. It gave the young duchess the impression that something—or _someone—_ was watching her.

They could very well be hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“We’ll be fine, Duchess,” came a soft voice behind her.

Satine turned her head to her right, to find Obi-Wan padding not too far behind her. Master Jinn was observing their surroundings closely, seemingly unaware of the bold comment his Padawan had just made. Her gaze flitted back to the boy, and something within her heart stirred at the sight of him. The gentleness within his voice…Satine wasn’t sure she had ever heard him sound so sincere.

And yet…

“You’re sure you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Why would I do that?” 

The duchess couldn’t help the small smile forming across her features. And to her delight, Obi-Wan returned it, the expression shy, reserved, but still a smile. 

Stars’, this boy made her head spin. One moment she was ready to remove his _own_ head from his shoulders, and the next, she was convincing herself that she could learn to tolerate him. Was it the boy who was crazy, or was it in fact herself? 

_Definitely Obi-Wan,_ she thought while she watched him turn and exchange a few words with his master as they walked. 

It was when she stumbled across a small doll lying uselessly in her path did Satine come to a full halt.

Instinctively, reflexively, she knelt down, scooped it up and studied it. The standard light blonde hair tied into two braids, it’s pale skin and bright blue eyes shining in the darkness were all too much for the young duchess to ignore—the fragile, beautiful characteristics of a traditional Mando’a doll. 

Satine hadn’t held one in her arms in ages.

It was covered in ash and soot, the once bright blue school dress it wore now faded and dull. The wide-eyed cheerful expression it sported looked all wrong in such a place like this. Satine was certain if she stared into its eyes any longer, she’d lose all control over herself.

But the small streak of blood running down the doll’s back was what made her tears fall instead.

“We have to hurry,” came Master Jinn’s soft, soothing tone.

Satine didn’t move for a long moment, cradling the doll against her chest as she hid her watery eyes from sight. All she could think of was the girl who had once owned it and how she had most likely lost her life in a meaningless, endless, and useless war.

“Duchess.” It was Master Jinn again, but he didn’t sound as if he were really there. Far, distant, possibly even miles away. “We have to hurry.”

“I know.” Satine opened her satchel strapped on her shoulder and quickly slipped the doll inside, nodding mechanically. She sniffled and swiped her tears away before rising to her feet, a small part of her worrying she wouldn’t have enough strength to hold herself up, but she remained steady on her feet. 

She turned to find the soft expressions of Master Jinn and Obi-Wan staring at her in concern. Her eyes lingered on Obi-Wan for a fraction of a moment longer, something within her stirring at the realization that he seemed worried for her. Perhaps he wasn’t as self-centered as she had once thought.

“I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” Master Jinn pressed.

“No, but I will be.”

As the leader of her people, Satine would be strong. She would be courageous.

She would be fearless.

And with that, the duchess continued forward, leading the way to the secret passageway of the castle.   
  


* * *

  
Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this.

But of course, no matter how many times he tried to alert his master of his uneasiness through their force bond, the elder Jedi simply sent him a wave of reassurance in return. 

_We will be fine, Padawan._

Obi-Wan audibly sighed in frustration. _But, Master…_

_Yes, Padawan?_

He nearly groaned at the calmness of Qui-Gon’s tone. Force, did his master simply just enjoy driving him to right about his wits’ end?

_You have no idea if we’ll truly be fine or not, Master._

There. Obi-Wan felt it. A sliver of uncertainty from Qui-Gon as he failed to respond right away. A small part of the boy victored in calling his master out and catching him off guard, but he also only became more nervous at the fact that the elder Jedi wasn’t completely certain of the situation himself.

 _That is true, Padawan._ Finally, an answer. But it wouldn’t end up being one Obi-Wan favored. _Please just make sure the duchess is oblivious to any doubt arising from you and I._

This time the boy couldn’t help but grit his teeth, eternally grateful that he was walking behind Satine and not beside her where she would be able to see the barely contained expression. _Master, that’s_ lying _to her._

_She is already uneasy, Padawan. Being completely honest will only make things worse._

_It isn’t honorable._

Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon shooting him a warning through the Force, an evident order to simply follow directions without any questions and finally complied, although he made a show of not being too happy about it. 

_If she doesn’t believe me, I’m blaming you._

Then, quickly and expertly, he closed his master off from his mind before the elder Jedi could send back a response and zeroed in on the duchess in front of him. Her pace was rather hurried, he noted to himself. A clear indication of stress.

Obi-Wan realized then that he in fact very much did need to soothe her.

“We’ll be fine, Duchess,” he tried, already cringing at how pathetic he must have sounded.

Satine’s head whirled around to face his, and the boy watched her baffled expression soften hopefully. A million thoughts seemed to be racing through her mind; he could see it all pass through her unmistakable sky blue eyes. They lingered on him for a long moment, and Obi-Wan found himself staring right back at them, hesitantly shifting on his feet as he waited for a response.

Force, was he ever going to get one?

_See? I told you, Master. She doesn’t believe me._

Satine was still staring at him.

_I wouldn’t believe me either._

“You’re sure you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Why would I do that?” Obi-Wan found himself saying back without missing a beat. To his surprise, he sounded much more convincing this time, in his own opinion at least. But all that truly mattered was the duchess’, and she still seemed torn in whether to believe him or not.

Finally, the boy felt something within his chest ease when she smiled at him. A sincere, relaxed one. Those were the best ones, Obi-Wan thought. He returned it without hesitation, completely unaware of how much his Force presence brightened when Satine’s own expression lit up even more as well. 

_Padawan…?_

Qui-Gon was trying to make his way through Obi-Wan’s shields. Puzzled, the boy quickly let them down and invited the elder Jedi in, alighting their bond once again. _Yes, Master?_

There was another beat of uncertainty. Obi-Wan’s heart sped up anxiously as he waited.

_Master?_

_Nothing, Padawan mine. Well done._

Qui-Gon was keeping something from him. The boy felt a strong urge to continue to pester his old master for answers, but he was already too familiar with the elder Jedi’s incredible ability to withstand interrogation for what could end up feeling like an eternity. Obi-Wan had already been on a handful of missions where he had been forced to witness Qui-Gon endure brutal questioning while going through many of the same things himself, and somehow, they both miraculously survived every time. 

Obi-Wan called it luck. Qui-Gon called it the will of the Force.

Soon, he found himself believing his master’s words as well.

Which, in conclusion, meant that Qui-Gon wasn’t going to fall victim to his Padawan’s probing any time soon, much to his disappointment.

Obi-Wan would have to try and discuss it with him later.

But for now, he shifted his attention to his surroundings, blinking a bit in startlement when he realized how close they were currently to the palace. The kingdom was a ghost town; all mercenaries, insurgents, bounty hunters, and innocent citizens were nowhere to be found. Of course, the enemy could simply be hiding, which made Obi-Wan a bit on edge at the mere thought of it.

He, his master, and Satine would certainly be outnumbered if they were to be attacked or caught off guard.

As they neared the large, glassy palace doors, the duchess steered the two Jedi past them and into the gardens. Obi-Wan exchanged a confused glance with his master, but Qui-Gon eventually shook his head: _she knows what she’s doing, Padawan. Just trust her._

For what now felt like the thousandth time, the boy scanned the area for any suspicious or threatening Force presences, but to his relief, he sensed none once again. Perhaps they really _were_ in the clear for once.

 _Bantha poodoo_ , Obi-Wan thought glumly. When were he and his master _ever_ deemed even a _moment_ of safety in their time of their apprenticeship together?

 _I’m afraid that answer would be never, Padawan,_ came Qui-Gon’s comical reply almost instantly, and yet, the boy didn’t hear even an ounce of amusement lingering within it. He couldn’t help but break into a soft chuckle as they continued journeying through the gardens.

The boy could tell that had there not been any smoke lingering in the air—a clear result of the fires—the trees and plants would have been deemed more colorful than any garden he had ever seen, and Obi-Wan had been to many places during the span of his young life. A brief thought had him wondering just how far and often the duchess had travelled herself.

Then, his mind drifted to the idea of the said garden being a wonderful place to meditate in, and Qui-Gon’s relaxedness within the Force made it evident that he agreed; his master had always been entranced with the thought of meditating in nothing but the living Force around him. Then, he had begun to teach Obi-Wan this way of meditation—and of course the boy basked in its warmth and secureness the same way his master did.

It was hard _not_ to.

But now, as the three padded softly through the wave of gardens surrounding the palace, Obi-Wan pushed the thought of meditation far from his mind. They had no time for finding themselves within the Force at the moment; currently sneaking through Sundari and through its secret passageways alongside the duchess already had the two Jedi stressed out enough, thank you very much.

_Breathe, Padawan._

The boy nodded stiffly, almost to himself and slowly inhaled, determined on not allowing the duchess to sense his anxiety. He must have done somewhat of a decent job, because she kept moving forward, head turning side to side to occasionally check for their safety or for intruders, never whirling back to face him questioningly.

Thank the Force.

Suddenly Satine halted. So abruptly that Obi-Wan nearly ran into her, and Qui-Gon almost bowled over both of them. The two Jedi rapidly regained their balance before the duchess’ gaze landed on them, her sky blue eyes lighting up in what looked like hopefulness.

‘What was it?’ the boy wanted to ask, but something within the young royal’s expression indicated that he should not make one sound. Qui-Gon caught onto it as well, sending her a query through his own bright blue eyes. 

Satine’s head slowly gestured downward, and following her gaze, Obi-Wan found himself staring at a large, lush bush. It was taller than the boy but not Qui-Gon and contained several thorns, ones that looked sharp enough to leave a deep cut if not cautious. Then, to Obi-Wan’s startlement, Satine reached out toward the bush and began slowly pushing the limbs aside, paying no mind to the thorns that spread across them like wildfire.

He couldn’t help but ask… “Doesn’t that hurt?”

The duchess simply shook his head and plucked a single thorn off a branch, handing it off to the boy as she continued about her task. Once he was holding it in his hands, Obi-Wan quickly came to the discovery that it was not in fact real but made of styrofoam.

His eyes flicked back up to Satine making a path through the bush, and that was when it hit him.

This was the secret passageway. Of course.

He and his master watched in impressment as the young duchess finally uncovered a durasteel trap door, cleverly painted green to match with its hiding spot. When she opened it and stared at the two Jedi expectantly, Obi-Wan swore he caught a hint of smugness glinting in her eyes.

“Who would like to do the honors?”

“I’ll go,” Qui-Gon instantly volunteered. “Obi-Wan, watch for the enemy behind us.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan affirmed.

The Jedi Master nodded his trust, expertly slipping inside the trap door the moment Satine opened it. The boy caught onto the faint sound of Qui-Gon’s feet gracefully hitting the floor with ease and the hum of his now activated lightsaber as he scanned his surroundings, waiting in what he hoped appeared like a patient manner.

“All clear,” came his master’s voice from below.

Obi-Wan audibly sighed in relief. “You go next, Duchess.”

Satine turned to face him, her expression a mix of hesitation and restlessness. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll catch you,” Qui-Gon assured her calmly. “It’s a bit of a drop, but I’m sure you’re already aware of that.”

“Yes,” Satine admitted quietly. “However, it still succeeds in unnerving me every time.”

“Just let me know when you’re coming down,” the elder Jedi informed her. “And I’ll catch you. I promise.”

“You can trust him,” Obi-Wan added helpfully.

Satine sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “I’m going now.”

Then, to his surprise, she leapt through the trap door without missing a beat, perhaps before she could ponder through it and end up changing her mind. The boy heard her soft squeal of fear as she dropped and disappeared from sight, but the sound of Qui-Gon’s strong arms gently scooping her up less than a moment later were music to Obi-Wan’s ears.

“All clear, Padawan,” his master called up to him.

Nodding to himself, the boy scanned his surroundings one last time, and after coming to the conclusion that he was in fact very much alone, he rapidly made his own jump through the trap door, plunging himself into a world of darkness.   
  


* * *

  
Not too long passed before Obi-Wan caught sight of a lurker following them within the shadows. 

He breathed in deeply, expertly, determined to not let his alarm ring out through the Force for his master to hear. His eyes flicked over to Satine who marched on ahead of him; to his relief, she appeared to be completely unaware of their pursuer.

Now he needed to warn Qui-Gon.

 _On our right, Master,_ Obi-Wan informed him through their bond. _Directly behind the—_

 _Nearest pillar,_ the elder Jedi finished without missing a beat. _Do not fear, Padawan. I noticed him a long while ago and was simply waiting for you to become aware of his presence as well._

Almost instantly the boy felt the tips of his ears redden in irritation. _And_ why _would you keep such a dangerous observation to yourself? He’s trying to assassinate the duchess, for Force’s sake, Master!_

A long beat passed, yet Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon’s slight amusement flutter across their bond in disbelief, wondering what in the name of all good things in the galaxy his master could find humorous at a time like this. 

_He is alone, Padawan._ Finally, a response. _I would hope they’d have enough common sense to not take two grown Jedi all on their own, wouldn’t you agree?_

Obi-Wan wanted to argue, wanted to tell his master that their pursuer could in fact _not_ be alone and have backup, but to his disappointment, theirs’ was the only unfamiliar Force presence he sensed around him. It was proof that they were indeed all on their own.

_Then, what are they doing following us, then?_

Even though he wasn’t looking at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan felt his master’s smirk widen. The boy wanted everything in his power to slap it off him. 

_That’s for us to find out, Padawan mine._

Force, Qui-Gon was going to drive them _all_ into an early grave.

“We’re almost there,” Satine alerted them from ahead. “Just a few more turns.”

The corridor the threesome were walking through was massive. Obi-Wan knew had the duchess not been present to guide them, both he and his master would have been helpless in such a maze. Their only light sources were their two lightsabers and the small penlight Satine carried for herself.

“Duchess, why don’t you come walk between us?” Qui-Gon suggested.

Obi-Wan expected Satine to turn and fix him with a skeptical gaze, but she did no such thing. Instead, she simply nodded and trailed backward until she was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder beside him, her long, slender figure giving off the appearance of a dwarf next to Qui-Gon. 

The duchess kept her sky blue eyes forward, nonchalant. Then, in a low whisper, she said, “Someone is tailing us, aren’t they?”

“Correct,” Qui-Gon murmured. “Any chance there could be more of them waiting for us in the hangar?”

“I’m afraid so.” There was an audible tremble in Satine’s tone. Obi-Wan knew she was afraid. He didn’t blame her. “There are many places to hide there, unfortunately, and it’s a very large and wide space.”

The Jedi Master let out a low, contemplative hum. “Then, I’d imagine our pursuer here is simply just making sure we make it to the hangar and is ready to alert the others if we happen to make a stop somewhere else first. Would you agree?”

Satine’s affirmative nod had Obi-Wan’s stomach sinking. 

They were walking straight into an ambush.

_Oh, Force._

“May I suggest that we try an alternative?” Obi-Wan whispered, the perfect calm and impassiveness gracing his features betraying his true emotions. “Perhaps one that maybe _isn’t_ a death trap.”

Satine’s fierce eyes met with his. “What other choice do we have?”

Obi-Wan evenly mirrored her gaze. “May I remind you that our mission is to _protect_ you, Duchess. At _all_ costs. So forgive me if I find it a bit alarming that we happen to be walking straight into an ambush, _completely_ outnumbered.”

“The duchess is right, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said.

Wide, bright blue eyes whirled up to the elder Jedi in disbelief. “Master?”

“As much as I ha— _dislike_ —the thought of walking into an ambush with almost no chance of survival, it is essential we leave the planet, and getting on a shuttle is the only way. We will have to be extremely careful and prepared, because _Force_ , we have no clue on how many bounty hunters could be waiting for us out there—“

“Shouldn’t we come up with a _plan_?” Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

He almost slapped himself to make sure he wasn’t imagining things when both Qui-Gon _and_ Satine cocked their heads to the same side simultaneously, as if clueless. They really _had_ been planning on just wandering inside the viewport without batting an eye, hadn't they?

The boy was absolutely certain that if he weren’t here to be the voice of logic and reason, his master and duchess would be goners without him. 

“A _plan_ ,” he said again, struggling to emphasize his words when he could only keep them in whispers. “We need a _plan_ if we are going to _survive_.”

“Good idea,” Qui-Gon agreed pleasantly. “I’ll be the bait.”

 _“What?”_ Obi-Wan and Satine hissed in unison.

“I’ll walk out there and distract them, while you two find the nearest and most suitable shuttle. Really, it all should be very simple. The only thing left to do now, is…” The Jedi Master shot a subtle nod in their pursuer’s direction. “We need to shake them first.”

Obi-Wan nodded in affirmation. “Sleep suggestion?”

“That would be the easiest way.”

“And silent,” the boy added. “Their partners wouldn’t hear a thing.”

“A sleep suggestion?” Satine echoed confusedly. “You mean, where you _force_ someone into unconsciousness?”

“Precisely,” Qui-Gon replied, ignoring the duchess’ grunt of surprise. “Padawan, would you? I need to scout the hangar before we proceed.” And with that, the elder Jedi made his way to the end of the corridor and to a set of durasteel doors with a padlock. He waited for Obi-Wan to complete his job expectantly. Satine was watching him as well, intrigued.

_No pressure at all._

“Why can’t you just do it?” The boy asked awkwardly. “You’re not even scouting the hangar yet, Master.”

“Oh, hurry up already,” Satine hissed impatiently.

Obi-Wan glared at her. _“Fine.”_ And with that, he faced their pursuer hiding behind another pillar and outstretched his arm toward them. Then, he called out to the Force and made his way through—a man’s, he now realized—mental shields with ease. Finally, he commanded with power and authority, “sleep,” and watched in silence as their pursuer dropped to the ground like a puppet who had just gotten its strings cut, already snoring lightly.

“Wow,” Satine said dumbly, sky blue eyes as wide as saucers as she stared at the prone body on the floor in amazement.

“Let’s keep moving,” Qui-Gon said busily, attention returning back to the padlock. “I’m assuming you know the combination, Duchess?”

“Of course,” Satine replied, walking up beside him and pressing the code in. Instantly, the light blinked green in confirmation, and the doors slowly began to slide open. Qui-Gon gestured to Obi-Wan to lead the duchess over to the corner and out of view while he took a deep, even breath, deactivated his saber and casually sauntered out into the hangar bay.

The boy swore his heart rate spiked to an extremely alarming number the moment he noticed his master was no longer wielding his weapon and had it tucked within his belt instead.

_Oh, Force._

“What does he think he’s doing?” Satine whispered irritably.

Obi-Wan slapped a palm to his forehead in disbelief. “Don’t ask me, because I have no idea.”   
  


* * *

  
And just as the boy claimed, he didn’t have a clue as to how his old master managed to do it, but the trio somehow, impossibly, _miraculously_ escaped onto a shuttle and took off for Draboon without setting the entirety of the hangar bay aflame. 

Satine was just as baffled as he was.

Qui-Gon was irritatingly quiet while at the same time smug, feet casually propped up against the bulkhead of the shuttle as they neared their intended destination. The smallest smirk was present on his lips, but his beard covered most of it. The boy was sure the duchess had missed it, but the sight of it was just slowly, torturously driving him mad.

At least they had escaped.

That was one thing Obi-Wan could be pleased with.

But his master…

 _Oh_ , his master.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help it.

He smirked, and to his disappointment, Qui-Gon caught it.

The elder Jedi flashed a cheeky smile at him in return.

_No need to thank me, Padawan._

_Never intended to, Master._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I know I originally stated that this story would be updated weekly, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with that promise anymore. I just keep getting busier and busier, which makes it harder and harder for me to update, so please bear with me! I promise I will add new chapters as soon as I can, it may just take a while sometimes. Thanks so much for understanding!
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: The First Bond


	5. The First Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon reminisces, Obi-Wan shaves, and of course our favorite Jedi and duchess run into some trouble again, poor dears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I would be lying if I said each chapter wasn’t getting longer the farther we move along, but I hope that’s considered a good thing for you readers!

When Satine opened her eyes, half of her expected to be staring up at the ceiling of her suite inside the palace.

Instead, she came face-to-face with a dark, starry sky that stretched to an infinity above the trees.

All those stars, she mused to herself. Even as close to each other as they appeared had never been more far apart in reality.

There was one specific star that caught the duchess’ eye. It was the biggest and brightest, the most radiant one in the entire sky. But it was banished to its own corner, millions and millions of light years away from its siblings, never to see them or or even meet them in it’s lifetime. The distance between that particular star and the others was painfully long and endless, Satine observed, making it give off the impression that it was a loner, an outcast, _abandoned_.

She couldn’t help but realize that she and that star shared a few things in common.

“Still awake, Duchess?”

Satine lifted her head off the ground, or rather her cloak—she was currently using it as a pillow—and found the familiar face of Master Jinn staring back at her. She managed a small, tired smile and nodded her affirmation.

“Many things to ponder about, I suppose,” she replied, slowly sitting up.

“You aren’t the only one,” the Jedi Master assured her kindly. “Is she, Padawan?”

“I’m afraid not,” came the voice of Obi-Wan from behind her. Satine turned her head his way to find him lying in an identical position, hands resting atop his chest with his cloak supporting his head. His blue-grey eyes were wide open and alert, a clear sign that he wasn’t in danger of drifting off anytime soon either.

Stealing a shuttle from the hangar bay inside the palace had left them with a few more resources than what they’d started out with, but unfortunately, the spacecraft was _cramped_ , thus, leaving the threesome with no place inside it to sleep. Satine didn’t mind much, though. She had always enjoyed resting beneath the stars. When her life wasn’t constantly in great risk of being in danger, that was.

“What’s keeping you up, Duchess?”

“Well, I _was_ asleep,” Satine said with a sigh. “I might have been dreaming, because when I woke up, I thought I was back in my rooms in the palace.” A wave of embarrassment washed over her at the strain in her voice as she mentioned her former home. _Hold yourself together._ “Then, I just started watching the stars.”

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Master Jinn smiled at her again, the twinkle in his deep blue eyes mixing with the dark sky. He sat up as well, hands resting on his lap relaxedly.

Satine found comfort in the soft expression and returned it. “They most definitely are.”

“Have you heard the legends?” The Jedi Master asked casually, allowing his head to land back softly on the ground. At Satine’s curious look, he added, “The stories, I mean. About the stars.”

“Some of them,” she answered truthfully, suddenly catching on. “The one I happen to be the most familiar with is the legend of Phea.”

Master Jinn hummed happily. “One of my favorites.”

Satine’s head drifted upwards, finding the specific star in no time at all. Just the mere sight of it washed back memories and memories, ones that were extremely painful to relive but too precious to simply forget. “My mother would tell me the story every night before I went to sleep. No matter how many times I heard it, I would make her share it with me again and again.”

“That’s understandable.” Master Jinn let out a soft chuckle. “The legend of Phea is not one to ignore.”

“What is the legend of Phea?” The sound of Obi-Wan’s voice was a bit of startlement to Satine, and she looked at him, searching his expression. He was now sitting up, too, propping his head up with his elbow lazily. Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and the young duchess found herself staring into those deep sea green orbs until Master Jinn’s response jerked her out of her observations.

“A Mando’a folktale that has been around for centuries,” the elder Jedi informed him. “A young woman who went by the name of Phea was in love with a man. However, she could not be with him due to the fact that she was a slave. Her master, who happened to be a witch, forbade any visits between Phea and her lover, threatening to kill the man if the two tried to disobey her. When she ended up catching the two meeting up in secret, anyway, she enforced a punishment upon Phea that was much worse than the death of her lover.”

“Her master knew that if she ended up killing the man, Phea would be useless to her as a slave,” Satine added softly. “So instead, she banished the woman up into the stars to remain for eternity, taking her lover for a slave as a replacement.”

Obi-Wan stared at her confusedly. “And you took a liking to this legend as a _child_? It seems very somber, if you ask me, for a _bedtime_ story.”

The duchess shot him a pointed look. “It’s romantic.”

The boy released a huff of amusement, shaking his head in what appeared to be puzzlement. “I wasn’t aware you knew your Mando’a history, Master.”

The elder Jedi smiled wistfully in return, his deep blue eyes distant. “Master Tahl and I loved reading the legends together,” he said quietly. “It was one of our favorite pastimes together as younglings in the Temple.”

Satine wasn’t positive, but she thought she felt a hint of sadness in the air after this. She searched both the expressions of Master Jinn and Obi-Wan observingly, finding them to be somber and longing. Then, as if they noticed her catching on, their Jedi-masks came racing back onto their faces in what felt like no time at all.

The duchess raised a wary eyebrow, suddenly becoming uncomfortable in the midst of the tense silence. “Who is Master Tahl?” She finally asked apprehensively.

Master Jinn’s eyes darted to hers immediately, a bit flustered, she noted. “She was a fellow Jedi that I happened to grow up with in the Temple,” he answered neutrally.

Satine nodded slowly, quickly understanding. 

“And what happened to her?” She tried, a bit hesitant, worried she had overstepped her bounds.

Another long silence passed. Satine was beginning to realize she wasn’t going to get an answer when Obi-Wan finally revealed bluntly, “she died.”

The duchess breathed in slowly, having already assumed this, but the carefully blank expressions lingering on the two Jedi’s features told her that this Master Tahl meant much more to them then they were letting on. 

Something heavy weighed on Satine’s heart as she searched their eyes; they were the window to a person’s soul, she liked to think. And what she saw deep within them was nothing but sorrow and regret, and it was heartbreaking. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, not quite sure on how to express her sympathy.

“It’s alright, Duchess.” Master Jinn’s kind smile was back, but Satine noticed it was a bit more strained this time. “Death is a natural part of life, and instead of mourning for ones who have left us, we must rejoice, as they have transformed into the Force.”

Satine wasn’t very sure on what that meant, but questioning the elder Jedi didn’t seem like the way to go, so she forced a nod, instead, pasting her own smile on her face as well. Soon after that, Master Jinn announced he was going back to sleep, and after bidding goodnight to the two youths, he laid on his side, completely turned away from them. 

Nothing was said after that, save for the soothing chirps of the crickets and the rustle of the trees from the wind. Satine would have found it relaxing if she hadn’t felt so karking _guilty_ ; it was evident she had somehow a nerve with Master Jinn, and while he would never openly admit it, she knew.

So instead, as a distraction, she turned her attention back to the stars, resuming to her previous position of lying flat on her back. She blinked mindlessly, realizing that she wasn’t in fact watching the stars but simply staring off into space. Then, sighing in what she hoped was a quiet manner, Satine’s heart ached as the vision of the sad expression on Master Jinn’s face flickered across her mind. 

“He loved her.”

Satine’s head jerked up to find that Obi-Wan still remained in a seated position. His blue-grey eyes were soft as they studied the still form of his master. At her wary look, he put her at ease by assuring her, “Don’t worry, he’s asleep.”

“How do you know?” She asked.

“I can sense it through our bond,” the boy replied quietly, still taking care to keep his voice low. “We won’t wake him up.”

Was Obi-Wan indicating that he wanted to have a conversation with her? Intrigued, Satine sat up again, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders tightly. It was a bit chilly without a fire after all.

“He loved her?” She repeated softly.

The boy nodded. “They were best friends. I met Master Tahl in the early stages of my apprenticeship with my master, and I almost instantly put the pieces together—that they shared something special. They never acted on it, of course, but I know for a fact that he was devastated when she died.”

“What happened?” Satine whispered, heart clenching at the stiffness in Obi-Wan’s voice, a rigidness that was so clearly trying to hide his true emotions and greatly failing. 

Obi-Wan met her gaze again for a brief moment before his eyes darted away. “It was on a mission,” he explained quietly. “She was taken prisoner and injected with a drug that slowly drained her of all her strength. By the time we found her, it was too late. My master sat by her bedside and was with her when she died.”

Horror dawned on Satine, and she covered her mouth. She tried to utter back a response, but words failed her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like for Master Jinn; to witness his beloved die before his eyes, completely helpless and able to do nothing but watch.

Just the thought of it made her stomach churn.

“My master has always been a maverick when it comes to the rules of the Jedi Order, but the forbiddance of attachment is one I’m almost fully certain he’ll follow from now on,” Obi-Wan admitted softly, a flash of what looked like regret passing through his eyes. “Losing her...it will have an eternal effect on him, I’m sure.”

“I couldn’t imagine living a life forgoing attachments,” Satine found herself saying. Her heart skipped a beat when the boy instantly looked up to lock eyes with her. Nevertheless, she forced herself to continue. “We gain our strength by filling each other with overflowing love and a sense of empathy. It’s what gives us our energy, our _passion_. The fact of knowing there are people out there in the world that _care_ for us.”

Obi-Wan was silent as he soaked in her words, gaze never leaving hers as the wheels inside his mind seemed like they were spinning wildly. Satine let out a small smile, slowly resetting herself on the ground, placing her cloak back underneath her head as a pillow.

“Without love, what really is the purpose of our existence?” She mused out loud.

Once again, the duchess didn’t earn a reply, but she wasn’t expecting one. So, she allowed her eyes to slip closed, and before she knew it, her mind had vanished along with the darkness of the night.   
  


* * *

  
Shaving was a sacred time for Obi-Wan. It was a part of his day that he tended and preferred to spend alone, with no witnesses. Doing it in the Temple in his private ‘fresher made it fairly easy for him to vanish for a few minutes and simply get it done, but completing the task in nothing but wildlife around him was what he liked to think of as impressive.

It was difficult to sneak away from their campsite without being pestered with questions, but Obi-Wan managed to do so today. Satine was still fast asleep, curled up in a ball and occasionally mumbling something unintelligible, while Qui-Gon was completely out cold, snoring so loudly it was a wonder the duchess hadn’t been roused awake by it, either, like Obi-Wan had.

The perfect time to escape.

Quickly scooping his backpack from the ground, Obi-Wan hurried out of the clearing and made his way down the stream about half of a mile away. Then, after settling himself beside the water, he pulled out the razor and a bottle of shaving cream, quickly getting to work. The past few days had been quite busy with trying to find new shelter, after all, and he hadn’t really had the time to find a private place to get rid of the stubble that barely ghosted over his face. 

Qui-Gon would teasingly call him obsessed with his desperate need to be _clean_ , but Obi-Wan merely thought that a young man who bore the traditional Jedi-Padawan haircut should not have a mustache or beard to go along with it. 

_So uncivilized,_ the boy mused to himself as he began spreading the shaving cream across his cheeks, chin, and above his lips. 

He had already planned on allowing himself to grow a beard once he transitioned into Knighthood, despite many of his master’s protests, the elder Jedi insisting that his Padawan had a baby face that was merely ‘too young, innocent, and precious to be hidden by facial hair’. That comment hadn’t even gotten close to changing Obi-Wan’s mind, instead, driving him to become even more determined to grow a full on beard once he was no longer a Padawan. 

_Qui-Gon and his wise choice of words._

Speaking of the devil, Obi-Wan sensed a familiar presence behind him and turned, smiling cheekily at the sight of his old master standing there with his hair a bit mussed up from having just woken up, expression also unimpressed.

“Hello, there.”

Qui-Gon snorted in amusement, tightly crossing his arms in a playful manner. “Good morning to you too.” A small pause, then, “Should I have expected anything less from you, Padawan?”

The boy shook his head pleasantly. “Of course not, Master.”

“That’s a fine beard you have there,” Qui-Gon said smoothly, casually making his way over to his Padawan and taking a seat next to him. “Although I have to admit, even _my_ facial hair isn’t that white, and yet yours is. Does someone like the duchess happen to be causing you a bit more stress than usual?”

“Shaving cream, Master.” Obi-Wan sourly ran the razor down his cheek, lips quirking in satisfaction when it made a streak, exposing his light skin color in the midst of the white cream covering his face. “ _Not_ a beard. _Shaving cream._ ”

His master hummed happily in response, not even bothering to fire back a retort. “As I’ve said before,” he concluded, “your face is far too youthful to hide behind a beard, so I have to admit it pleasures me to see you shaving, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan merely rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re happy, Master,” he rattled off as insincerely as possible.

“What would the duchess say if she saw you in such a state?” Qui-Gon mused thoughtfully.

“Why are you asking me this?” The boy inquired warily.

“Because she happens to be right behind me.”

A small gasp escaping his mouth, Obi-Wan whirled around in horror, expecting to find himself face-to-face with Satine herself looking like a complete lunatic with shaving cream spread all over his face, but instead, he was met with nothing but air and trees. He allowed confusion to trickle across the bond he shared with his master only for Qui-Gon to send a tidal wave of amusement back at him.

“That was very immature,” he said simply, resuming back to shaving while ignoring the elder Jedi’s huffs of laughter.

“I got you there,” Qui-Gon grinned.

“Mmm.”

“Why did it matter to you so much?”

“What?” Obi-Wan stopped his task to look his master in the eye curiously.

“Why did it matter to you so much that the duchess may have seen you like this?”

The boy stared at his master, clueless. Really now, what was Qui-Gon getting at? 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied back slowly, cautiously.

A long, quiet beat passed, where nothing but the calm waves of the stream filled the silence. Obi-Wan waited for his master to elaborate when Qui-Gon finally shrugged in a carefree manner. “Never mind that,” he said dismissively, rising to his feet. “I should be getting back to camp. Apparently the duchess can miraculously sleep through my snoring, so I’d better go check up on her, make sure she’s still alive…” 

“You left her by _herself_?” Obi-Wan exclaimed in horror, suddenly coming to that realization.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Qui-Gon assured him. “Trust me.” And with that, he shuffled to his feet and disappeared within the trees, leaving his Padawan to continue about his task.

Obi-Wan had gotten through about half of his face when he startled a second time, although he was certain this time that it wasn’t a false alarm. The voice nearly had him plunging the entirety of his head in the stream in a desperate attempt to hide himself.

“You _really_ didn’t think he was planning to leave me all alone, did you?”

The boy kept his body turned forward, away from the duchess, solely focused on his reflection staring back at him in the water. He then realized how grateful he was for the shaving cream spread across his face, for it expertly hid the bright splotches of red that he was absolutely certain now engulfed his cheeks in embarrassment.

“When it comes to my master, one can never be so sure,” he found himself replying in a calm manner. “You _were_ there to witness his escape plan when we stole the shuttle, correct?”

“It technically wasn’t stealing if it was _my_ property to begin with,” Satine pointed out, making her way over to Obi-Wan and taking a seat beside him. The boy was sure he flushed even harder now that she could get a clear look at him, swallowing thickly. “I am the duchess, after all, am I not?”

It took everything inside Obi-Wan to keep from glaring from her. Did she always have to have her own question ready to be fired back the moment he asked one of his, even as sarcastic as his own were sometimes?

He had never met anyone like Satine, that was for sure.

“Master Jinn woke me up right after he did,” the duchess elaborated, and Obi-Wan observed in humiliation through his peripheral vision that she was going out of her way to avoid looking at him, almost as if she had just walked into something extremely personal. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw something like her own flush creeping up her face, staining her cheeks a pretty pink. The sight made his heart skip a beat for reasons he couldn’t explain. 

“Leaving me alone probably wouldn’t have been the wisest decision,” Satine added, but it seemed as more of an afterthought. Obi-Wan caught her sneaking a sideways glance at him before they locked eyes for a brief moment, both of them quickly turning away from one another shortly after. “As we quickly became aware of while on Mandalore: eyes are officially _everywhere_.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Obi-Wan affirmed, already making quick work of shaving, estimating that he would be finished in about less than a minute, much to his relief. All he desired was to somehow escape the rigid, awkward, and uncomfortably professional conversation that was taking place while he was in the midst of shaving. Ah, _yes_. The perfect time to hold a discussion with a young woman who happened to be determined, headstrong, and beautiful—

The boy nearly froze up at his final thought, blue-grey eyes popping out a bit in shock. Why was he musing over such things? Didn’t he have more important things to be pondering about?

And then, finally, Obi-Wan finished. Softly splashing his face with water from the stream, he placed his hands on his cheeks, fighting the urge to nod in satisfaction at their smoothness. _A job well done,_ he thought wryly, mood still darkening at the realization that his master had indeed just left him with the duchess to protect all on his own, and to make matters worse and even more awkward, whilst he was _shaving_. 

Qui-Gon was going to pay for his cleverness. Obi-Wan would make sure of that.

“We should be heading back,” he said to Satine, gaze never leaving her delicate features as she turned to face him. He swore he saw something flash within her eyes as she soaked the new sight of him in, but he couldn’t decipher what the expression was.

“Of course,” she replied, rising to her feet, watching the boy stuff his materials into his backpack. Once he was ready, their eyes met again, and Obi-Wan managed a brief, tight, closed-mouthed smile before leading the way back to their campsite.

_Force, help us all._

By the time they arrived a few short minutes later, Qui-Gon was urging them both to go on a mini-quest for food, such as berries and fish while he got a fire going. Obi-Wan was already fuming at his master through their bond for exposing him terribly earlier, so learning that he would be spending more time alone with the duchess wasn’t exactly what he would call delightful.

He still wasn’t even sure if the flush on his cheeks had completely died down yet.

“I can go by alone, Master,” the boy offered in what he hoped looked like an act of generosity, not a desperate attempt to earn some time for himself.

Satine appeared to agree, having a seat on the ground as if to make her point that she wasn’t leaving. Qui-Gon watched her curiously, then his gaze travelled to Obi-Wan, standing perfectly straight with his cloak tightly huddled around him in what gave off the impression of a closed-off manner.

“Is everything alright?” The elder Jedi asked warily.

“What do you mean, Master?” The boy cocked an eyebrow, desperately trying to make an attempt to appear confused and not downright humiliated that Qui-Gon could sense his embarrassment about the shaving incident through their bond so easily.

“Has something happened?” Qui-Gon pushed.

“Of course not, Master Jinn. We would have already informed you of it by now,” Satine gracefully cut in this time, rising to her feet with ease while making her way to Obi-Wan’s side. Then, turning to look the boy right in the eye, she added, “We should be going now.”

And with that, the two youths began their way back into the thick grove of trees when Qui-Gon called out to them, resulting in them to spin and face him attentively. 

“Please summon me if you run in trouble this time,” he advised them, although mainly his Padawan. “And try to do it before they bring out the gunfire and go completely ballistic, alright?”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan responded obediently.

And then, he saw something—watched something unfamiliar and mysterious pass over Qui-Gon’s deep blue eyes. It was so brief the boy would have missed it had he not been looking closely. His master’s gaze seemed as if it were going back and forth from studying Obi-Wan and Satine, and then, strangely enough, the elder Jedi appeared to be soaking in the sight of the two youths _together_ , and Obi-Wan caught that same flicker across Qui-Gon’s eyes before soon enough, it had vanished.

“Have fun, you two,” his master said while turning away to start preparing a fire, a clear dismissal. Then, as if it were an afterthought, he added lightly, “But not _too_ much fun.”

And as the young Jedi and duchess began making their way through the forest to begin their unanticipated quest, Qui-Gon’s final comment had them both blushing harder than they ever had before.   
  


* * *

  
“So, what are we hunting for?” Satine asked as casually as she could, although she still found herself inwardly cringing at her question.

“Well, Master Qui-Gon insisted we go fishing and find some berries,” Obi-Wan replied nonchalantly. “So, perhaps it’d be easier just to go along with what he said.”

“Are we going to catch the fish the _natural way_?” Satine found herself smirking at her remark and at the thought of Obi-Wan walking away from her a few days back hurling the same words over his shoulder as he went. 

To her surprise, the boy’s lips then curled up into his own smug smile. It was small, vague, but she caught onto it. She was almost proud of herself for eliciting such a response from a Jedi—especially after learning of how stoic and impassive they could appear, that was.

“As a matter of fact, Duchess, we are,” Obi-Wan shot back just as effortlessly. There was a sparkle in his sea green eyes that made Satine stop and stare at him for a brief moment, and it was only when he turned away from her to continue forward did she finally snap out of her trance.

They walked in silence for several minutes when they finally reached the stream. Obi-Wan studied it observantly before making his way over to the calmer current where more fish likely resided. Satine followed him, intrigued as to how he was planning on catching their breakfast.

Her question was answered when the boy pulled off his boots, socks, and began wading into the shallow, peaceful waters of the stream. Quickly coming to the realization that he was full on hunting the fish with his bare hands, the duchess briefly found herself wondering if Obi-Wan was going to remove his tunic to keep it dry, but he did nothing of the sort.

“Do you need any help?” She found herself asking.

“I’ll be fine,” came the distracted response.

Annoyance flooded through her body at the answer she received. Huffing impatiently, Satine crossed her arms over her chest and waited. _Clearly_ Obi-Wan deemed her not capable of completing such a task. His body language and comment were all the evidence she needed for herself. Well...she would prove him wrong.

As quickly and stealthily as possible, Satine relieved herself of her own boots and socks, slowly moving towards the stream and into the water. She must have been doing somewhat of a decent job, because Obi-Wan hadn’t sensed her approaching yet. That, or he was too concentrated on trying to find a fish to catch. Nevertheless, it didn’t matter to her. She was succeeding.

A minute passed, and then the duchess was only inches behind Obi-Wan, watching and mimicking his every move, hopeful and determined to find and catch a fish before he did. They were now both chest-deep into the water, and Satine was certain they couldn’t go any further without being fully submerged. But, the fish were everywhere; to her relief, they seemingly deemed she and the boy as non-threats and were gliding through the water around them freely. Another wave of satisfaction passed through Satine at her ability to remain immobile for a long period of time; perhaps she was more capable than she had once thought.

Eyes expertly scanning the water, the young duchess was searching for the perfect fish to target when she found it: a grey one, not too much larger than her foot, calmly making its way in front of her. Then, before she could think twice, Satine dove for it, hands outstretched, absolutely certain she was about to earn their first catch of the morning.

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan had chosen the exact same fish and had lunged for it at the exact same time she had.

Needless to say, the two harshly bumped heads, grunts of surprise and pain escaping their mouths as they both face planted into the stream simultaneously. Satine gasped reflexively as her mouth was instantly filled with water, and through her hazy sight, she witnessed the swarms of fish that had been surrounding them only a few moments earlier darting away with their lives. Pushing herself to the surface, the duchess emerged coughing and spluttering water from her lips unceremoniously.

Obi-Wan erupted from the surface beside her immediately after, a large, strangled gasp coming from his mouth as he gulped for air. Satine knew he must have been even more caught-off guard by the events that had just taken place, but she hadn’t expected him to whirl on her and instantly blow up.

“Satine!” He shouted angrily, sapphire blue eyes blazing. “What are you _doing_?!”

Instantly offended, the duchess snarled right back at him. “Don’t you take that tone with me!”

“I told you I could handle it myself!”

“Well, by the looks of it, you were struggling,” Satine shot back smartly. “I must’ve been just standing there for five minutes waiting for you to move even a fraction of an inch!”

“I was _focusing_!” By now, Obi-Wan was seething, hands clenched into fists glued at his sides rigidly. Satine didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to feel the anger radiating off him; it was very, very, clear. “You know, I couldn’t just randomly _pick_ a fish and _dive_ after it like a maniac!”

Through her own agitation, it took everything in Satine’s power to keep from flushing, because that was _precisely_ what she had just done. Not that she would ever allow Obi-Wan to catch onto that; her pride meant too much to her to be bruised so easily.

“And now look at what you did!” Obi-Wan continued, dramatically gesturing to the empty waters around them, now free of all fish. “They’re all gone, thanks to you!”

“It wasn’t _my_ fault!” Satine roared.

“Yes it was!” The boy cried in disbelief. “It was completely your fault!”

“If you were a _true_ Jedi, you would have sensed me coming behind you!”

“A _true_ Jedi?” Obi-Wan erupted into laughter, but nothing about the sound was humorous. In fact, it only irritated Satine even more. She gritted her teeth and growled in frustration, sky blue eyes gleaming furiously under the sun. “You _really_ want to go down that road, Duchess?” He asked tauntingly.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“A _true_ duchess would have the decency to respect other beings, let alone the ones who have sworn their lives to _protect_ her. But _no,_ Satine. You pester, snap, and order Master Jinn and I around as if we were your own personal servants. And don’t even _think_ about interrupting me!” Obi-Wan barked, holding his index finger up toward Satine as she opened her mouth in fury. Clamping it shut with barely contained rage, she felt her body tremble as she fought to steady herself.

Seemingly satisfied that the duchess had spared him room to speak, the boy squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before beginning again. 

“We may be here to provide safety for you, Satine, but we’re not _actually_ your servants, and you need to realize that. Like for example, yesterday: did you really expect my master to carry _your_ nearly weightless satchel along with his own ginormous backpack because _your_ shoulder felt tight? Do you have any idea how difficult it is dragging those along with us? And now you just want to _add on_ to our burden? Forgive me for being blunt, duchess, but that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair at all.”

Satine was motionless on the outside, but the words and retorts roaring through her mind showed otherwise of her anger. She wanted with all her might to cut Obi-Wan off and offer her own point of view on the Jedi and how they could appear so stubborn and arrogant at times, but then, she realized she’d only be proving the boy’s point.

“And you’re always criticizing us, too,” Obi-Wan continued, still as fiery and passionate as ever. It was a new look for him, and it was clear he didn’t vent out loud very much. Master Jinn would not approve, Satine thought darkly. “No matter what happens, you believe _your_ way is the correct way and that there are _no_ alternatives. What kind of logic is there to that?”

_You’d better shut it—_

“So, if you would _prefer_ to continue having two Jedi who would rather protect you then get sick of you and leave you for dead, I highly suggest you change your act,” the boy concluded curtly, and _there_. Satine saw it. The flash of smugness flickering in his eyes and sharp features. She couldn’t stand it. “We’re _not_ your servants, we’re _not_ people you can just step on when your confidence levels are feeling low, and we’re _not_ Jedi that are forced to continue protecting you. We could drop the mission anytime, you know. And I have to admit that I’m feeling _quite_ tempted at the moment—“

It was then when Satine lost the small remainder of self control she had left and found herself hurling a bucket load of water Obi-Wan’s way, unable to stop the smirk creeping up her lips as he was instantly drenched once again less than a millisecond later, sapphire blue eyes as wide as saucers, jaw hanging open in shock.

“You did _not_ just do that,” he said softly, a clear indication that the rare gentleness in his voice was only a front to disguise the true enragement that was written all over his face.

 _“I just did that,_ ” Satine deadpanned while sprouting him with a new coat of water for the second time.

A tidal wave that collided with her body, nearly throwing her backwards was the only response she got.

“How dare you?!” She exclaimed, rapidly pushing her blonde hair away from her eyes and off her forehead to where it now wetly clung. “Stop it!”

Obi-Wan shrugged carelessly. “If you’re doing it to me, why can’t I do it to you? I thought you stood for beliefs that consisted of equality and _fairness_ , Duchess.”

“Oh, shut up!” Satine splashed him again, and _hard._ She heard him choke out a strangled breath for air as he clearly hadn’t been expecting it, but she was soon met with her own wave that had her coughing and spluttering pathetically.

“Remind me again of how old we are?” Obi-Wan shouted over the continuous splashes of water.

“Perhaps you should ask _yourself_ that question!” Satine fired back, smirking in satisfaction when her splash had the boy gasping as water rapidly filled his mouth only to violently spit it out afterwards. The appalled look on his drenched face had her chuckling to herself, although she knew he would only become more agitated if he discovered that she was laughing at him, so she kept it fairly quiet.

“Maybe the one who answers it should be the one who _started_ it!” Obi-Wan aimed directly for Satine’s face, and it left her gurgling and spluttering water out in such an undignified manner she would have been ashamed of herself if she hadn’t felt so karking _furious_ at the boy standing across from her. “Because it certainly wasn’t me!”

“ _Maybe_ if you learned to shut up every once in a while, your mouth wouldn’t land you in such big trouble!” Before she could hesitate and decide against it, Satine reached forward, hand outstretched toward Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid. Then, she yanked on it, ignoring the boy’s grunt of surprise and pain as he was jerked forward with it. Their faces were only inches apart, and the duchess briefly found herself staring into the fiery, sapphire blue depths of his eyes, but this time, they were so close to one another she didn’t have anywhere to retreat away from the sight.

For once, the splashing had stopped, and the only audible sounds were hers and Obi-Wan’s labored breathing, both clearly a bit wrung out from the water war that had just taken place only mere moments earlier. The expression lingering on the boy’s face was a flustered one, and it was then when Satine was reminded again of how really close they were, and the situation instantly grew uncomfortable for her as well. Releasing her hold on his braid, she warily backed up a few steps, watching as Obi-Wan straightened to his full height now that he wasn’t bent over and wincing while he placed a hand over the patch of hair where his braid began. 

A long moment passed, and Satine was convinced she had startled the boy into silence when he suddenly muttered, “For someone as committed to the ways of peace as you are, Duchess, I have to say I’m surprised that you don’t seem to mind enacting such physical discomfort upon other people.”

So Satine hit him—struck him upside the face with her palm as hard as she could—as a response.

She watched in astonishment as Obi-Wan’s head was whipped to the side, witnessed his bright eyes double in size, heard the sickening smack of her wet hand meeting with his skin and gasped in horror at herself.

_What had she done?_

The boy was still silent, head placed in the exact position she had left it, eyes just as wide, when suddenly, he slowly turned toward her, his own hand coming up to rest on his cheek that was already beginning to flood pink from the impact. No words came from his mouth, although Satine noticed that his lips were slightly parted.

And now the guilt was drowning her insides. Her angry splashes of water as she had been trying to shove it in his eyes and down his throat, her forceful yank of his braid that harshly pulled him along with it, and now the senseless slap that would most definitely leave an imprint of her hand on his cheek…

Satine didn’t even know who she was anymore.

“Obi-Wan…” she whispered, tears already brimming her eyes, “I’m so sorry—“

But she never got to finish her sentence when a low, treacherous growl rumbled within the clear waters underneath them. 

Eyes darting down in alarm, Satine’s heart skipped a beat when she saw nothing but hers and Obi-Wan’s bare feet below her. A shiver racked up her spine before she could help it. 

“What was that?” She breathed.

“I’m not sure,” the boy replied, and when Satine turned to look at him, she found that his eyes had slipped closed in focus. “Get out of the water, though.”

“What? _Why_?”

It was when a ginormous creature that contained sickly scales, sporting the colors of pale green and yellow, erupted from the clear waters that had once been too calm, jaws wide open while it exposed its countless teeth that resembled daggers, lunging right for the duchess and Jedi, did Satine finally get her answer.

She couldn’t help it; she screamed.

Hands outstretched toward the beast, Obi-Wan used the Force to push it several yards away from them before it roughly crashed back into the water, the impact now stronger than any of the duchess’ and Jedi’s splashes had been. 

“Stay back!” He then ordered her, instantly shoving her behind him. “Get to the shore!”

“And leave you to deal with this monster yourself?!” Satine cried.

“Go!” The boy commanded with such authority she knew she would be a fool to disobey.

Charging for the shore, it took everything in the duchess’ power not to turn her head back for even a moment, as she knew that every second could be worth her life. Once her feet returned to the bliss that was dry ground, only then did she whip around to face the battle that was taking place within the waters. 

“Obi-Wan!” Satine yelled reflexively, tears instantly welling in the back of her eyes at the sight before her.

The boy was currently coiled up in what she now concluded was a Mandalorian crocodile’s limbs. It’s long, thick scaly tail wrapped around Obi-Wan’s torso dangerously, slowly but effectively making its way up his body. Grunting in pain, the boy’s eyes scrunched shut as he let out a strangled gasp for air, while somehow, miraculously managing to get one hand free.

“Obi, your lightsaber!” Satine hollered instinctively, already scooping it off the ground and readying herself to launch it at him, but he had already thought ahead, the weapon hurling out of her hands and into Obi-Wan’s free one with an agile Force pull.

Quickly and expertly, the boy activated its sapphire blue blade, driving it right through the middle of the crocodile’s tail and heaving a labored inhale when the creature screeched in agony while releasing the young Jedi from its deadly grasp. Obi-Wan fell into a heap, violently crashing into the water, and Satine screamed again as the creature dove under with him, the fierce smack of its tail that now consisted of a stump sending tidal ways toward the shore. 

As she waited for the boy to surface, Satine felt herself growing lightheaded as the moments ticked by, and he still hadn’t erupted from the water in a panicked frenzy. _He can’t die,_ she pathetically told herself as the stream began to even out. _He’s a Jedi._

And yet, the waters remained calm.

No. 

“Obi-Wan!” She cried out helplessly, but only the shrill echo of her voice returned to her.

He was gone.

Suddenly something enormous burst through the surface, seemingly shattering the once peaceful waters like glass. Satine gasped and leapt back, watching in disbelief as the crocodile soared through the air with Obi-Wan clinging onto its back for dear life, doing everything in his power to remain upright. Miraculously, his lightsaber still resided in his hand, and he was struggling to activate it while being jostled around like a doll. Still, even as bewildering and stunning the sight was, relief flooded Satine’s insides at the mere realization that the boy was in fact still _alive._

Once the blade of his ‘saber was ignited, Obi-Wan focused his sheer concentration on finding a spot on the crocodile to pierce it with. Unfortunately, the creature seemed to sense this, thus, racking up the intensity of its shaking a few more notches. Satine couldn’t help but wince when the boy nearly lost his grip on the crocodile and almost went soaring back into the water, but he managed to find his grasp once again.

Jagged claws made their way up to find contact with Obi-Wan’s tunic, and this time, they succeeded. Satine heard a pained grunt escape the boy’s mouth as he loftily scrambled out of the crocodile’s hold, but he didn’t escape unscathed. Even several feet away safely on the shore, the duchess could make out the gashes on the young Jedi’s chest as his tunic began to tear away.

Gritting his teeth, sapphire blue eyes blazing along with the color of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan extended one hand out and with an impressive Force pull, jerked the foot that had just pierced him upwards, ignoring the crocodile’s shriek of pain at its leg being positioned in such an unnatural angle before slicing it clean off with his blade.

Satine watched the limb fall uselessly back into the water, jaw dropping as Obi-Wan took the crocodile’s current stunned state for his advantage and sprinted up its back, aiming for the very top of its head. He nearly slipped along the way, narrowly avoiding the creature’s attempts at swatting him back into the water as well. Finally, the boy reached his intended destination, struggling to regain his balance when the crocodile violently teetered back and forth, desperately trying to fling its burden off its body.

The crocodile was now awkwardly hunched on one side; missing the entirety of its hind leg left a few difficulties for it to endure. Still, the setback didn’t discourage the ferocious creature, only energizing it instead. It’s bright, sickly, yellow slits of eyes were wide but narrowed, clearly full of determination. The expression it wore was bone-chilling. 

Satine shivered at the sight.

Then, in a final attempt to wring Obi-Wan from its body, the crocodile lifted its front leg up to collide directly with the boy’s chest in an attempt to slash it once again, and it was nearly a success. But, the young Jedi was prepared. Launching into the air and performing a flawless double flip that had Satine gaping, Obi-Wan dismembered the leg with his weapon, grunting along the way as the creature screeched in agony for what felt like the countless time. Then, quickly and expertly, the boy drove his lightsaber directly through the top of the crocodile’s skull, the sapphire blue blade plunging through violently and bursting from its chin. 

Satine saw the light fade from the creature’s eyes as they glazed over, and she couldn’t help the small twinge of pity inside her heart. The movement of Obi-Wan’s blade through the crocodile’s neck and chest in an assurance that it really was indeed dead didn’t help her guilt wear off any faster either. As the creature sank lifelessly in the water, the boy leapt off the top of its scaly head and launched himself toward the shore, landing in an exemplary crouch next to Satine. She watched him silently, waiting for him to regather himself when he finally pulled himself to his feet.

His breathing was unnaturally controlled and rhythmical after such a horrific event, and the young duchess was almost completely certain that Obi-Wan’s adrenaline had to be raging, but he gave no indication of the sort. He pushed the soaked, thick ginger spikes of hair that had fallen into his face behind him and untangled the long Padawan braid that had wrapped itself around his neck. Finally, he met Satine’s awaiting gaze, and there were those sapphire blue eyes, as focused and determined as ever.

She wanted to thank him for saving her life, for throwing his own into the realm of danger without a single doubt or hesitation, for nearly killing himself at _her_ expense, but words failed her. Blushing fiercely when she realized she was doing nothing but staring, Satine’s mild annoyance at how Obi-Wan had brutally killed the crocodile bubbled to the surface, and she used it before the boy could question her for her rare silence.

“Was slaughtering the poor thing the way you did very necessary?” She asked testily.

Obi-Wan’s expression went from blank to appalled instantly. Tightly crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes then closed wearily, and he shook his head in what looked like disappointment. “For Force’s sake,” he mumbled to himself before his head darted up to lock eyes with the duchess. “I saved your _life,_ Satine.”

“I’m aware of that, and for that I am very grateful,” she admitted. “I’m just not so fond of the _method_ you used to end up handling that creature. There are much more _civilized_ ways to perform a mercy killing, you do know that, right?”

“Oh, of course,” Obi-Wan agreed politely, head bobbing up and down passionately, although Satine instantly saw through the act and only glared at him. “I’m sure you most definitely would have wanted that crocodile to earn a peaceful death if it _had_ indeed succeeded in killing you.” 

“But it _didn’t_ ,” she huffed stubbornly.

The boy took a daring step toward her, so close that Satine could almost feel his warm breath on the bridge of her nose. She resisted the urge to shiver at the sensation. 

“The only reason you’re standing upright and not sitting in mutilated pieces in the bottom of that crocodile’s stomach is because of _me_ ,” he informed her darkly, large blue eyes gleaming in the glimmering sun. “So you’d best begin to learn to accept that.” 

Satine mirrored his fierce gaze, although she could sense her cheeks already growing hot again. Praying that they weren’t flushed enough for the boy to notice, she snapped back smartly, “We’ll see.”

The two stared at one another for what felt like a lifetime, their expressions so intense they each worried to be considered weak if they looked away for even a mere moment. But suddenly, Satine noticed the fire gradually begin to vanish from within Obi-Wan’s eyes, and she watched the fight leave his body almost instantly, leaving his posture more hunched than what it had been before. It was then when the duchess remembered that he had taken the brunt of many injuries, shaking them off as if they were only scratches, but now, the pain had eventually caught up to him. 

“Obi-Wan,” Satine began, surprising herself at the rare gentleness lacing her voice. Her eyes trailed down the boy’s lean, muscular body and found the small puddle of blood that was currently growing on the ground below him. “You’re hurt.”

A hint of surprise flashed across the young Jedi’s expression at this. “I’ll be alright,” he informed her, and Satine was put a bit more at ease at the confidence in his tone. Surely he had dealt with injuries such as these before. He must have known what he was talking about.

“Still,” she insisted firmly, “we need to bring you back to camp. Forget about breakfast for now; Master Jinn needs to patch you up first.”

To her relief, Obi-Wan complied, and Satine scooped up his backpack, slipping it over her shoulders, and at his appreciative nod in her direction, she managed the smallest of smiles in return. Then, the two began their journey back to camp in another silence, but the thoughts raging through the duchess’ mind made it nearly deafening for her internally.

Her guilt was beginning to drive her insane.

But for whatever reason, she was still unable to apologize.   
  


* * *

  
Obi-Wan was oh, so tired.

Still, he refused to allow his eyes to slip closed as Qui-Gon carefully wrapped his wounds.

It wouldn’t be very becoming of a Jedi to nod off right in front of the young woman who happened to be his protectee, now would it?

“How does that feel?” Qui-Gon asked softly, just having finished with his work. In response, Obi-Wan shot him a grateful smile, nodding his thanks. He huddled deeper into his master’s cloak, resisting the urge to shiver in the company of others. His tunic and cloak were currently levitating over the fire under Qui-Gon’s influence as they continued to dry, and the elder Jedi had ever so generously offered the boy his own cloak to take comfort in. 

To go shirtless for the duchess to clearly see with her own two eyes...Obi-Wan merely flushed at the _thought_ of it. 

“Now, explain to me what happened again?” Qui-Gon pestered the youths.

Sighing tiredly, the boy replied, “Master, we already told you the whole story.”

“Incoherent, pained mumbling as the duchess rushed you over here doesn’t count as explaining,” the elder Jedi quipped dryly. Then, eyes turning to Satine, he said politely, “Duchess, would you?”

As the girl calmly told Qui-Gon of their situation, Obi-Wan found that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His master had already wrapped a warm towel around her shoulders, and her clothes were to be dried immediately after the boy’s were finished; in all truth, she looked very comfortable in her current position. 

Still, she had been strangely quiet ever since they had arrived back at camp, and the boy quickly took notice that she hadn’t made eye-contact with him since their argument at the stream. _Ah_ , he thought, understanding suddenly dawning on him; the duchess was feeling _guilty_.

Just as she should, Obi-Wan inwardly muttered to himself. He had saved her life, for Force’s sake, and her gratitude had been nothing than another snarky comment. He really was in fact growing tired of her thanklessness these days. 

“Well, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said loudly, nearly startling him out of his musings and returning his attention back to his master, “seems as if you’re able to get everything under control lately.” As the elder Jedi shot a fond expression Obi-Wan’s way, the boy felt the smallest flicker of pride trickle through their bond and delighted in the sensation. It was rare when he ever received showers of praise from Qui-Gon, so when they came, he cherished them for all their worth. 

“He handled the situation perfectly,” Satine then added, to his disbelief. She met his gaze, and Obi-Wan noticed it again—the sheer amount of guilt flooding her eyes. “If it weren’t for him, I’d likely be dead right now.” 

“I believe it,” Qui-Gon told her with a thoughtful hum. He smiled softly at the duchess, but then Obi-Wan received the smallest tendril of confusion from his master through the Force.

_Why does she seem so mellow, Padawan?_

Swallowing thickly, the boy did his best to send back a believable response.

_I wouldn’t know, Master._

“I need to say something,” Satine suddenly declared, if a bit loudly, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. He stared at her quizzically, and even though he couldn’t see his master, he sensed Qui-Gon was fixing the duchess with an identical expression. 

A long, awkward silence filled the afternoon air as the two Jedi waited for Satine to continue.

“Obi-Wan,” she began quietly, and the boy’s heart strangely skipped a beat at the sound of his name on her lips despite hearing it several times before. Perhaps it was the gentleness laced within her voice that made this one different. “I...I need to sincerely apologize for my behavior earlier.” Satine struggled over her words, seemingly trying to choose them carefully. “What I said and did was wrong, and I truly feel awful.”

Obi-Wan was struggling to process the mere fact that the duchess had actually _apologized._ He had been almost completely certain her sky-high ego wouldn’t have allowed anything like that of the sort, but clearly he had been mistaken. He could sense Qui-Gon excitedly bombarding him with questions through the Force, but he quickly closed off the side of his bond so he could shift the entirety of his focus on the current discussion. 

“I need to apologize as well,” he replied honestly, guilt suddenly creeping up his spine at the memory of the brutally honest words he had exchanged with Satine earlier. Her own rare vulnerability had somehow helped him reveal even the smallest bit of his. “What I said to you before...it was cold. It was hurtful. And for that I am deeply sorry.”

“I’m afraid it was all true.” Satine shot him a pained smile. The sadness lingering in her sky blue eyes was heartbreaking. “As a duchess, I should know better. I should be aware of how much you and your master have already done for me in such a short span of time. I should learn to keep my mouth shut and listen, for as you mentioned earlier, there are other ways to go about with things other than my own.”

“You could say that for both of us,” Obi-Wan said quietly, and he couldn’t help the soft, playful smile creeping up his lips. To his relief and delight, Satine returned it. “I think we could agree we’re more alike than we’d ever be willing to admit, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Qui-Gon chimed in passionately. 

And then, the threesome laughed. It was a wonderful sound, Obi-Wan realized. A sound that held nothing but amusement and fondness. There was no more guilt or regret hovering in the air around them anymore. Satine appeared to have already moved past it, sky blue eyes twinkling as she grinned and turned to Qui-Gon and spoke.

“I suppose we must drive you insane sometimes, don’t we, Master Jinn?”

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t true, Duchess.”

Satine giggled again, and Obi-Wan found himself smiling at the sound. They locked eyes for a brief moment as Qui-Gon spit out another witty comment and laughed again, but in all truth, the boy didn’t hear a single word that left his master’s mouth. Seeing the duchess happy made him feel more elated than he would ever admit for anyone to hear. 

“Well, Padawan, I suppose _I_ should go and fetch us some breakfast since you failed in bringing back any,” Qui-Gon said teasingly as he rose to his feet, smirking at the playful glare Obi-Wan shot his way. “You’ll be alright here by yourself with the duchess?”

“Yes, Master. I can move everything just fine. It’s only a few scratches and bruises.”

“Alright. Just try and get some rest, in the meantime. I won’t be long.”

“Not to worry, Master Jinn,” Satine assured the elder Jedi, and Obi-Wan caught the smugness on her features and frowned. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Satine,” he shot back wryly.

Qui-Gon simply chuckled and spun on his heel, quickly exiting the clearing and leaving the two youths to themselves. Suddenly, his voice filled Obi-Wan’s head, nearly startling the boy as their bond flickered to life.

 _So, it’s_ Satine _now, isn’t it?_

Obi-Wan flushed furiously at the rhetorical question. 

_Master?_ He sent back softly, desperately making an attempt to appear confused.

 _Whatever happened to calling her_ duchess _, Padawan?_

Another pause as the boy struggled to come up with an answer. Even while Qui-Gon’s back was to him as he journeyed further and further into the forest, not even making eye contact with his Padawan to shoot him a playful grin, Obi-Wan was certain his skin had to be dangerously tinged red by now at his current embarrassment.

And yet, he still couldn’t answer his master’s question. 

Luckily, Qui-Gon let it slide, their bond quickly darkening as the elder Jedi allowed their minds to drift apart and into their own thoughts. Still, Obi-Wan anxiously tightened his shields, fearful of his master somehow making his way back in. 

He tried to forget the incident and, instead, focused on the incredible realization that he, Qui-Gon, and Satine had just shared a joyful moment together. One where they had laughed freely amongst each other’s presences with no worry of being judged. Almost two months into their time on the run together, and they were finally beginning to connect.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself at the discovery.

Finally. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...as you can see, some things are starting to happen! For those of you who have stuck with me and this story since the beginning, I thank you so much! Because you are the ones who encourage me to continue writing and updating this story! 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: The First Exposure


	6. The First Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan is tired. Satine is hungry and cold. Qui-Gon is just trying his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I’m back, everyone! This chapter is very long as well, so I hope you enjoy it!

Obi-Wan was trying to remain positive. He really was.

But the fact of the matter was that their shuttle—or should he now refer to it as a smoking, _piece-of-junk_ —was currently alight with roaring flames, on the verge of exploding any minute.

Unfortunately, they had built their fire too close to the spacecraft, and soon enough, just as the three had finally nodded off, Obi-Wan had been roused awake by the alarming scent of smoke hovering in the air. By the time he’d alerted his master and the duchess of the situation, it had been too late. Their shuttle was enshrouded in flames, and the nearest water source was almost half of a mile away. 

So now, the trio was taking shelter in a grove of trees a good distance away from the fire, completely safe from any harm while watching it consume the entirety of their shuttle in disbelief. Satine’s sky blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and she held a hand over her mouth in horror. Qui-Gon’s expression was nothing but disappointed; Obi-Wan swore he heard a curse or two escape his master’s mouth followed by a long-suffering sigh. 

“A few embers from our fire must have caught onto the ship,” Qui-Gon informed them.

Obi-Wan gawked sarcastically at his master. “You _think_?”

And finally, their shuttle imploded, igniting the dark night with bursts of red, orange, and yellow, shaking the ground so violently Obi-Wan nearly lost his balance. He quickly steadied himself, and a quick assuring glance at Qui-Gon informed him that his master was managing alright as well, but the duchess—

Almost reflexively, the boy leaned toward her, one hand stilling at her shoulder and the other at her waist, instantly balancing her. She looked up, her gaze finding his, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the explosion or embarrassment that was causing her to flush.

It was contagious. Before Obi-Wan knew it, his mind wandered to the sight of his hand resting against her slender waist. Then, he found himself thinking of how it felt, and soon, he was blushing so profusely he would have done anything to convince someone that it was only because of the heat.

“Thank you,” Satine uttered out rapidly, clearly desperate as well to escape the dreadfully humiliating moment.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan mumbled in response, hands rapidly untangling themselves from the duchess’ body and back to his sides. Really, what else could he say? “I’m sorry,” he then added without another thought, almost instantly regretting it less than a moment later.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Satine assured him distractedly, tearing her eyes away from him and back to the smoking mess that had once been their shuttle. Obi-Wan followed her gaze and blinked in surprise. Force, he had nearly forgotten about the explosion.

Running a hand through his ginger hair, the boy shook his head confusedly, blue-grey eyes as wide as a tooka’s when it was frightened. _What was wrong with him?_

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the fire died down to mellow flames, ones that wouldn’t endanger them if they stayed far away enough, but unfortunately, that wasn’t assuring enough for Qui-Gon, who cautiously neared their shuttle alone. He had given Obi-Wan and Satine instructions to stay put—despite his Padawan’s protests—while he examined the wreckage himself. And evidently, the result wasn’t one that his master quite liked.

“We have to move quickly.” Qui-Gon was already scooping their backpacks off the ground and rushedly hurrying back to the two youths. 

“It won’t hurt us anymore, though,” Satine pointed out, eyes still watching the calm flames of the fire.

“We’ve already drawn enough attention as it is,” Qui-Gon replied firmly, ushering them away from the clearing and further into the trees. “If anyone didn’t know we were here before, they’re definitely aware of it now, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to take, Duchess.”

“I understand.” Satine gave a somber nod of her head in compliance, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help the hint of surprise creeping up his face at her humility. Perhaps she was finally learning to accept others’ ways and ideas, even if they didn’t match with her own.

“This way,” Qui-Gon motioned for them to follow him, and they did without any more questions for a long while. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, fortunately leaving the trio a pathway through the forest, but staying energized was becoming more and more of a difficult task for Obi-Wan. Still, he made a show of appearing fully alert for his master and the duchess to see, and luckily for him, they seemed to be buying it.

 _How far will we be traveling, Master?_ He gently prodded at their shared bond after several minutes passed in silence.

There was a pause, as the elder Jedi clearly was contemplating his next move.

 _A few miles north, Padawan,_ Qui-Gon answered slowly.

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement but didn’t send another internal reply; his master had made a good decision. Shortly after the explosion had taken place, the boy had done a quick scan through the Force to search for areas where life presences were located, and he had quickly analyzed that most of them resided in the south. The complete opposite direction was the smart way to go, in his own opinion, at least.

 _You’re tired, Obi-Wan,_ suddenly came Qui-Gon’s voice in his head, nearly startling the boy. It obviously wasn’t a question his master was asking a question.

Obi-Wan almost let out a long sigh but quickly caught himself before the elder Jedi could catch on. Unfortunately, Qui-Gon wasn’t as oblivious to his Padawan’s emotions as the boy hoped he was sometimes. He swore his master had the ability of reading him like a book when he wanted to.

And yet…

_I feel fine, Master._

Another tense beat of silence.

_Do you now, Padawan?_

Even though they were communicating solely through their minds, Obi-Wan subconsciously bobbed his head up and down a few times for the second time that night to assure his master, but that was his mistake. He could almost _feel_ the quirk of Qui-Gon’s amused eyebrow and nearly cringed for everyone to see, but to his relief, he was able to keep this facial expression from entering upon his features.

 _That’s how I know you aren’t telling the truth, Padawan._ His master’s voice carried its own weariness, but Obi-Wan wasn’t certain of the reason behind it. _Whenever we engage through our bond, you always take care to appear that we aren’t communicating on the outside, and you just failed to do that now. Twice._

The boy didn’t send back a reply, for he knew that Qui-Gon was nothing but right, and he couldn’t help but take shame in that.

_Are you feeling unwell? Obi-Wan, if you are, you must be honest with me. This will not turn into the time when you caught the Varelian flu and hid it from me for days._

_Force, no, Master,_ the boy assured him sincerely. _I wouldn’t think of ever doing that again, and you know it._

 _I certainly hope not._ Qui-Gon’s voice now held a firmness to it, one that he solely kept for his Padawan when he needed to use it. _Perhaps we should stop and make camp for the night to rest. You look like you need it._

“I’m perfectly fine, Master,” Obi-Wan insisted tiredly, and _loudly_.

He instantly froze, blue-grey eyes widening in horror.

Satine stopped in her tracks, turning to face him confusedly. Under the eerie glow of the moonlight and shadows of the trees, she appeared much more pale, the usual rosiness that occupied her cheeks now absent. Obi-Wan quickly observed that she must have been far more tired than she was letting on as well.

Just another thing they shared in common.

“What was that?” She asked.

 _Force,_ the boy inwardly muttered. He had just spoken out loud for the duchess to hear.

 _Do you see my point, Padawan?_ Came Qui-Gon’s comical reply. _You need to rest._

“Nothing, Duchess,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

Satine fixed him with a glare. When he attempted to walk past her, she stubbornly held out an arm, prohibiting him from moving any further. Releasing a long sigh, the boy mirrored her expression, fully determined on not allowing her to run him over tonight. He wouldn’t be tolerating any of that.

“You two were communicating through the Force, weren’t you?” Satine inquired.

It was the second time that night that Obi-Wan was completely caught off guard. And judging from the faintest flicker of surprise through his shared bond with Qui-Gon, his master hadn’t been expecting the observation—and a _correct_ one, at that—either. The two Jedi shared an incredulous look before frantically morphing their expressions into the standard masks of neutrality. 

“No,” Obi-Wan said, although even he knew how unconvincing that sounded.

Satine rolled her eyes in response to this. “Don’t lie. I know you were. We’ve been on the run together for two months now; you really don’t think I’m going to start noticing things?”

“As a matter of fact, Duchess, we were,” Qui-Gon gracefully cut in, saving the heated conversation from what Obi-Wan knew would soon transform into yet another argument. 

“What were you discussing?” Satine prodded bluntly.

“Private matters,” the boy snapped at her.

“Like _what_?”

“It’s none of your concern, _Duchess_.”

“If you and your master are secretly communicating, it means you are speaking of something you don’t want me to know about,” Satine stated coldly. “Perhaps you’re talking about _me_ behind my _back_?”

“I assure you, Duchess, that is not the case.” Qui-Gon gazed at her sincerely, his features evidently showing the truth. Satine appeared to believe him, her posture already relaxing at his gentle tone, much to Obi-Wan’s relief. “We were simply discussing our next plans, and then I pointed out that my Padawan seems to be _very_ tired. Nothing more than that.”

“It’s true,” Obi-Wan echoed quietly. “That’s why I said I was fine out loud.”

The air felt thicker, far more dense than before. Satine’s Force presence was still as fiery as ever, ready to spring right back with a witty comeback if needed, but the boy quickly noted that she was calming down. The intensity within her sky blue eyes never vacated, though. Obi-Wan impulsively found himself wondering why his heart gave a little flutter every time he stared at them when a hand suddenly shot up in his vision. He blinked, realizing in alarm that he had been zoning out and took a step back to find both Qui-Gon and Satine watching him worriedly.

“Are you alright?” Satine asked, and _there._ Obi-Wan heard the slight worry lacing her voice.

“Just tired,” he finally admitted, if a bit ashamedly.

“Which is completely _normal_ ,” Qui-Gon pointed out. 

“I know.” The boy managed to release a small huff of laughter, and his spirits lightened just a bit when both the duchess’ and his master’s lips quirked up as well in amusement. “It’s just that now really isn’t the _time_ to want to lay down and go to sleep, wouldn’t you agree? Bounty hunters are probably trailing us as we speak.”

“That may be, but we _might_ just be able to find a place of shelter they won’t happen to find,” Qui-Gon informed him with a casual shrug. “We can’t have a bedraggled young Jedi being captured on our conscience, now can we, Duchess?” He turned to Satine, fixing her with a playful smirk, which she slyly returned.

“Of course not, Master Jinn,” she answered, playing along perfectly.

“Oh, Force.” Obi-Wan gave an annoyed eye roll, not even bothering to protest. He was far too fatigued to hold his own against the duchess and his master. They were most definitely a formidable opponent; one he wasn’t sure he could keep up with in his current state.

Not too long had passed before the trio found a place to settle down for the remainder of the night. The bottom of a ditch, camouflaged with boulders and bushes, seemed to be their perfect match. After quickly setting camp, Qui-Gon alerted the two youths that the three of them needed to keep their conversations to low whispers, as there could be anyone listening. Obi-Wan and Satine easily agreed. All they really wanted was a night of undisturbed rest. 

Qui-Gon had volunteered to take watch while his Padawan and the duchess slept, which had turned into a very brief argument with the boy, who eventually gave in and was currently curled up on his side, knees brushing against his chest with his cloak supporting his head as a pillow. Satine had already drifted off, leaving Obi-Wan and his master as the remaining ones awake, not that he minded much.

“Are you sure about this, Master?” He asked with uncertainty. “Because we can split keeping watch over the duchess—“

“No, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon finalized immediately. “Get the rest you deserve. It’s only a few hours till sunrise anyway. I promise you, I will be perfectly fine staying awake for just a bit longer.”

“Alright,” the boy conceded, a soft smile then creeping up his youthful features. “I apologize, Master. I don’t know why I feel so tired—“

“Not another word, Padawan,” Qui-Gon admonished patiently. “Now, off to sleep, with you.”

Obi-Wan cocked an unimpressed eyebrow up. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Never said you were.”

A chuckle escaped the boy’s mouth against his will. “Goodnight, Master.”

“Sweet dreams, Padawan.”

Then, Obi-Wan allowed his exhaustion to consume him, and soon enough, he knew no more.   
  


* * *

  
Satine couldn’t remember the last time her legs ached so badly.

They had been walking for nearly five hours now, having only stopped once at the stream for a drink of fresh water. And all the while, the scorching sun beat heavily down onto their skin, causing it—especially Satine’s—to burn. She would have thought being enveloped in nothing but trees would keep them protected from the powerful rays, but it did nothing of the sort, seeming to make the air around them even more dense and humid.

Her sleep the night before had been...uneasy, to say the least. First of all, it had barely lasted four hours before Master Jinn was gently nudging her awake with the news that the sun had risen, and they needed to keep moving as a result, and secondly, the moment she was roused back into alertness, she quickly concluded that she had been dreaming of her parents and sister.

“Are you alright?” Master Jinn had asked her worriedly.

Swiping a hand down her face sleepily, Satine had then realized her face was stained with tears. Busily brushing them away, she had nodded and rose to her feet, already tossing her cloak around her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she had insisted before the Jedi Master quickly let it go, much to her relief.

And now, the threesome were making their way through the forest in a silence that had lasted for nearly an hour now. Not that it bothered Satine much. Talking just didn’t seem very appealing at the moment, and judging by the grim expressions currently plastered on Master Jinn’s and Obi-Wan’s weary faces, they couldn’t have agreed more.

“I hate to state the obvious, but none of us have had anything to eat in nearly a day,” the elder Jedi suddenly pointed out. He began fishing through his backpack, pausing as he did so before pulling out three ration bars. Satine took hers with a sigh, finding the sight of it nauseating; they had been living on these for nearly a week now, and she was growing sick of them.

“We’ll try to find real food soon,” Master Jinn assured her kindly, and the young duchess found herself remembering with a start that he was a Jedi and could most likely easily read her emotions through the Force. “But for now, I’m afraid these will have to do.”

“I understand,” she replied, forcing a tight smile onto her flushed face.

“Maybe I could go and find us something,” Obi-Wan volunteered. 

Master Jinn fixed his Padawan with a look. “Like what?”

“There has to be fruit up in these trees,” the boy insisted, head turning upwards, and Satine followed his gaze. He was most likely right; the trees surrounding them were bright with life, their branches completely overwhelmed with green leaves, the radiance of the sun causing them to almost glimmer under the light. There was no _way_ there couldn’t be some kind of fruit hanging up there, the young duchess quickly decided after observing this.

Master Jinn, however, still appeared to be a bit skeptical. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he contemplated slowly, absentmindedly stroking his beard. “You could easily be spotted up there by bounty hunters, Padawan.”

“I’ll be careful,” Obi-Wan assured him.

“I know you will, but—“

 _“Master.”_ A small, amused smile lingered on the boy’s lips, his sea green eyes twinkling under the sunlight. Nothing but tranquility surrounded the entirety of his aura, and Satine didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to conclude that. “You can trust me, I promise.”

And with that, Obi-Wan launched into the air, causing the duchess to gasp in surprise when he agilely landed on a sturdy branch about fifty-feet above her. Judging by Master Jinn’s reaction, he hadn’t been expecting this bold move from his Padawan either. Tightly crossing his arms, his deep, baritone voice commanded nothing but authority as he barked out orders.

“Be _careful,_ Obi-Wan,” he instructed firmly. “I will _not_ be pleased if this stunt of yours ends in you hurting yourself somehow.”

“As if you don’t throw yourself in dangerous situations every day,” came the distant response. Satine found herself biting back a chuckle as Master Jinn’s expression indicated that he had clearly been caught off-guard, but she managed to morph her own into one of neutrality by the time he looked her way. 

“I have to admit you’ve proven yourself to be even more unpredictable than I on this mission,” the elder Jedi shot back after recovering from the boy’s quip. “Care to provide an answer for that, Padawan? You seem to be feeling a bit _bold_ at the current moment.”

“Not at all, Master.” Obi-Wan was studying the leaves of the branch he was standing on when he quickly concluded that no fruit resided on them before leaping onto the next one about ten-feet away. Satine found herself wincing in fear of him crashing down, but to her amazement, he stayed steady, even when the branch on which he stood violently shook.

“Obi-Wan, be careful!” Master Jinn admonished.

“I’m managing myself perfectly fine, Master,” the boy replied calmly while soaring through the air, landing gracefully on another branch, which to Satine’s horror, appeared even more flimsy than the last one. “Aren’t I making that perfectly clear?”

“You’re being _reckless_ ,” Master Jinn corrected.

“Am I, now?” Obi-Wan rustled through another grove of leaves, humming approvingly before soaring off the branch, performing a flip and landing elegantly beside Satine, who blinked at him in astonishment. He smiled slightly at her in return, handing her a small grapefruit that came to rest in her palm. “Here.”

Satine gazed down at the fruit. In all truth, it looked delicious, and she wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into it and relish in its juiciness. But first, she turned to the boy who had just presented it to her and offered her thanks; what kind of duchess would she be not to show her appreciation for such a blessed gift?

Taking a delicate bite, she resisted the urge to moan in pleasure. When was the last time she had eaten something so fresh, so _incredible_?

“How is it?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

 _“Devine,”_ she answered truthfully, excitedly munching on it some more.

“Would you like one, Master?” The boy then asked the elder Jedi, who had been quiet for some time now, Satine strangely observed.

“I believe I can get it myself, Padawan. Wouldn’t want to wear you out.” Master Jinn raised an eyebrow competitively before launching himself into the air, performing _two_ flips when he landed smoothly on a branch, shooting Obi-Wan a smug smirk while at it.

Satine couldn’t help but giggle at their playful rivalry, chuckling even more when the boy sent an unimpressed look her way. 

“What?” She asked innocently.

“Is it good enough that I should fetch one for myself?” He inquired, gesturing to the half-eaten fruit in her hand curiously. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied good-naturedly. “And besides, it's quite entertaining watching you both leap from branch to branch.” 

“Really, now?” Obi-Wan smirked at her, although the young duchess swore she saw a hint of surprise lingering within the depths of his sea green eyes. If she were being honest, she truly hadn’t been expecting such words to come rolling off her tongue either, but now it was too late to take them back, wasn’t it?

“How many flips can you do?”

The boy stared at her for a moment, clearly puzzled. “What?”

Satine chuckled. “How many flips can you do before landing on the branch? Your master did two. What about you, Obi-Wan?”

 _“Oh,”_ he scoffed arrogantly, “I can do far more than that old man could ever _dream_ of doing.”

“I _heard_ that, Padawan,” came the shrill reply of his master far above them within the trees. Satine giggled again when the faintest flush travelled up Obi-Wan’s cheeks in embarrassment for being caught, and he shot a sheepish smile up at the elder Jedi, not even bothering any words in return. Still waiting for him to accept her challenge, the duchess cleared her throat, resulting in the boy’s head to spin back her way.

“Prove it,” she said.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“Yes now, silly.”

The boy smiled at her. It was one of his rare, genuine ones. Before Satine could return it, however, he sprung several feet in the air, perfecting _four_ flips before perching atop a branch just a bit farther up from where Master Jinn was currently rummaging around for fruit. At the duchess’ gasp, he grinned down at her cheekily, shouting, “How’s that for proof?”

“Very impressive,” Satine shot back. “Although, I _was_ expecting you to be able to do a few more, unless you can’t…”

“You really think that low of me, Duchess?” Obi-Wan plucked another fruit from a branch before tossing it down her way, expertly using the Force to cushion its fall when it came to rest in the palm of her hand. “I have to say I’m quite disappointed.”

“Oh, you’ll get over it, I’m sure,” Satine taunted, unable to erase the content smile from her face as she took a bite from the fruit, already raving in its tastiness. To her delight, the boy sent a few more gracefully floating down into her satchel to stow away for later. Just the mere thought of snacking on them once they were able to find some shelter made her heart soar with happiness; she hadn’t realized how she could take something that seemed so simple as food for granted so easily. 

“Planning on coming down anytime soon?” She called up to the two Jedi after some time passed in silence. They both appeared to be busy, but she couldn’t help but tease them.

“Just about,” Master Jinn grunted, slowly, cautiously beginning to make his way down to her. Once he lowered himself to a branch that appeared more sturdy and secure, he leapt off it, coming to rest in an elegant squat next to Satine, handing her his cloak which consisted of several grapefruits lying inside. At her excited smile, he beamed. “Does that look to be enough?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied sincerely. “I can’t thank you enough, Master Jinn.”

“Of course, young one.”

“I do apologize for being a bit _picky_ when it comes to eating ration bars,” she added hesitantly. “It’s just that...eating them every _day_ was beginning to get a little—“

“Tiresome?” Master Jinn finished with a chuckle. At her sheepish nod, he continued, a familiar twinkle in his deep blue eyes. “I’m afraid you aren’t the only one who felt that way, Duchess. I didn’t want to admit it in case it wasn’t a problem for you, but I was getting quite sick of them as well.”

“That’s good to hear.” Satine looked up at him with a small smile. “Still, I thank you for being so understanding, Master Jinn. I know protecting me can be a bit... _challenging_ sometimes.”

“Nonsense,” the elder Jedi replied simply. “Assigned with the task of keeping you safe has been nothing but an honor, Duchess. We’ve all had our differences, I will admit that at most, but it would become quite boring if nothing interesting happened at _all_ , wouldn’t you think?” At his wink, Satine couldn’t help but giggle, the past _shenanigans_ that had occurred suddenly rushing back to her memory in a mix of humor _and_ embarrassment.

“I suppose,” she admitted slowly, if a bit cautiously.

“Oh,” Master Jinn then said, as if it were an afterthought, “and I do believe it’s time you start calling me Qui-Gon.” 

Satine froze. “You...you want me to address you by your first name?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just that…” She struggled in trying to find the correct words. “That wouldn’t be inappropriate to your Jedi Order, would it? Because I wouldn’t want to offend anyone by—“

“You wouldn’t be at all,” the elder Jedi informed her matter-of-factly. 

A long pause occurred as Satine pondered this. When Master Jinn didn’t object, she finally relented. “Alright; Qui-Gon it is. And now since I suppose we’re officially dropping formalities, please feel free to just call me by Satine.”

Master Jinn— _Qui-Gon_ , now—gave a shallow bow of his head. “It would be my honor.”

And then, in a flash, Obi-Wan perfected _five_ flips before landing in an elegant crouch beside both Satine and the Jedi Master while juggling about seven grapefruits in his hands. Eight more hovered calmly in the air above his head, obviously under his influence through the Force, and as she watched, Satine couldn’t help but feel awed at his abilities.

“For you, m’lady,” he said, handing her the fruits that resided in his arms, although she caught the smallest of smirks traveling up his lips—a clear indication that he was teasing her.

“I am forever in your thanks, young Jedi,” she replied good-naturedly, performing a graceful curtsey to add to the humor after stuffing the fruits in her satchel, which was growing quite crowded by now. It seemed to work as both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged smiles before chuckling a bit. Satine joined in, thoroughly enjoying the current moment.

The Jedi Master and Padawan then shared a few words with one another, and the duchess simply figured they were playful quips, but she would never know for sure. Mainly because she found herself staring at Obi-Wan, somehow unable to tear her eyes away from him.

He was smiling and laughing, to her delight. Satine noticed that his normally lighter pallor had tanned a bit throughout the course of the day, softly staining his cheeks with a hint of rosiness as well. His sea green eyes were bright and full of energy, seemingly sparkling under the light of the mid-afternoon sun. And his hair; the duchess couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her lips at the sight of his adorably slightly disheveled thick, ginger spikes that sat atop his head. Clearly he had put in a great amount of work fetching the grapefruits for her as a thin coat of sweat dotted his brow and lightly outlined the rest of the features as well. 

Then, before she could stop herself, Satine’s eyes were slowly traveling down—down to the sight of the boy’s tunic that had partially opened, revealing the smallest glimpse of his chest. She suddenly found herself imagining what the _full_ exposure would look like—to witness him shirtless—and was soon blushing so profusely that Qui-Gon pressed the back of his hand against her forehead in concern. 

“Are you ill?” He asked her worriedly. “Your face is quite hot.”

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly, desperately trying to hide her pure embarrassment. “I think I just need to cool off.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Obi-Wan chimed in. “We could go to the stream for a swim, perhaps?”

“Oh, stars’—“

“What was that?” Qui-Gon asked her.

“Nothing,” Satine assured him rapidly. _Had she really spoken that out loud?_ “I don’t believe I need a swim, though. Just some shade for the remainder of the night, if that’s alright?”

She wasn’t sure if she would maintain the ability to control herself if she witnessed the sight of Obi-Wan without his tunic. Already confused about her feelings enough as it was, the duchess sent a silent prayer up to the heavens, begging for the two Jedi to somehow agree with her. 

Miraculously, luck appeared to be on her side that evening.

“That’s just fine,” Qui-Gon finally affirmed gently. “I suppose we could all use a bit more sleep than we got last night, considering that it only lasted about four hours.”

“ _You_ didn’t get any shut eye last night, Master, remember?” Obi-Wan reminded the elder Jedi firmly. “You _insisted_ that you could take the first watch and let us sleep. So, if anyone needs extra rest, I’m afraid it’s you.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Qui-Gon admitted sheepishly, eyes then wandering up the fruits still hovering above his Padawan’s head. “Are you planning on allowing those to hang up there forever?”

Obi-Wan followed his gaze, blinked in surprise, then allowed an innocent smile to light up his already brightened features. “Force,” he chuckled out breathlessly, “I honestly forgot they were still there.” And with a simple wave of his hand, the flurry of grapefruits came gracefully fluttering down to rest within the hood of his cloak. At his master’s quizzical look, he added innocently, “What? There’s nowhere else to place them.”

Satine let out a giggle.

To her surprise, both the Jedi’s expressions lit up even more the moment they laid eyes on her. She wasn’t sure what she had done, but she was glad to see them both in such a state of contentment. Being on the run with them in the beginning hadn’t been easy, to say the least, and she was almost completely certain they could say the same, but now—

Satine would be lying if she stated she hadn’t been enjoying herself recently.   
  


* * *

  
They had found a cave.

Praise the _heavens_ , they had found a cave.

And Satine was currently swaddled up in three different cloaks _combined,_ two of which belonged to the Jedi, who had ever so graciously offered their own to her. She had been resistant at first, insisting that ‘ _really she wasn’t that cold’_ and ‘ _she felt just fine’_ , but to her disappointment and yet relief, neither of her protectors had bought her ruse for even a moment.

“You’re trembling, Duchess,” Qui-Gon informed her matter-of-factly with a cocked eyebrow.

“It’s _Satine_ ,” she reminded him with a wry smile.

“Right,” the elder Jedi replied with a sheepish smile, which she returned in amusement before another chill tore down her spine unexpectedly, startling her. At Qui-Gon’s worried glance, she gave him a tight nod of her head in hopes to convince him, but his expression already indicated that it hadn’t.

“I’m fine,” she tried again.

“You’re really not,” came Obi-Wan’s voice across from her where he was starting up a small fire, shooting her a pointed look while at it. “So, are you going to tell us what’s wrong, or are we going to have to find out ourselves?”

A long silence followed as Satine quickly realized she had lost the fight.

“Alright,” she finally conceded with a long-suffering sigh. Another pause as she hesitated. “...my stomach—it hurts. I feel cold and achy. My head hurts too,” she added—or mumbled—as she looked up meekly to face the two Jedi who stared back at her attentively. Another beat of silence passed as she then waited for one of them to answer.

“Is your stomach pain sharp?” Qui-Gon asked her, deep blue eyes serious.

“No,” Satine said, absentmindedly placing both of her hands over her stomach in an act of comfort. “More just like an ache, I suppose.”

“So your entire body is aching?” Obi-Wan elaborated slowly.

“Everything feels _heavy_ ,” she explained somewhat fuzzily, not fully containing the energy to dig further. “My head, my arms, my legs—although my stomach is where most of the pain is.”

“You’ve got chills?” Qui-Gon placed both of his hands atop her shoulders and gently rubbed them, sending waves of warmth throughout her entire body. For a brief moment, Satine wondered if he was using the Force to transfer heat inside her, but she dropped the thought when she realized she hadn’t answered the given question yet. 

“Yes, but that shouldn’t be anything to worry about,” she assured him. “I’ve always gotten chills whenever I feel under the weather, no matter what kind of bug I’ve caught. It’s just natural for me, I suppose.”

“Hmm,” Qui-Gon hummed, releasing his soft hold of her shoulders and ponderously stroking his beard instead. “Sounds to me like those grapefruits we’ve nearly devoured by now haven’t really agreed with your stomach.”

Satine froze. “You think it’s the fruit?”

“Sounds about right to me too,” Obi-Wan chimed in, having just finished with the fire and was making his way over to Satine’s other side. They locked eyes for a short moment before he added, “Do you feel the need to throw up?”

“Thankfully, no,” she told him, if a bit shyly. Just the mere _thought_ of keeling over in front of two well-esteemed Jedi to witness had her shivering. Really, that wouldn’t do for a duchess, it really wouldn’t. “Not yet, at least.”

“I don’t think you will.” Qui-Gon rose to his feet. “When foods such as fruit upset certain peoples’ stomachs, it usually doesn’t end in needing to throw up. The most discomfort you’ll probably feel for the remainder of the night is abdominal pain—which is what is occurring right now—but nothing more than that. Another thing that might help is some water. Which—“ he gestured to the large mouth of the cave. “I’m going to fetch for you right now.”

“Oh, Qui-Gon,” Satine started, a stab of guilt creeping up her chest, “that really isn’t necessary—“

“But it is,” the elder Jedi cut in. “It will help minimize your digestive stress. Keep things flowing nice and smoothly should you need to step outside and…” he paused then, giving a small shrug while his lips pursed into a playful smirk.

Perhaps it was because she was tired or feeling fuzzy, but it took Satine far too long to decipher the meaning behind the Jedi Master’s careful words until the boy beside her choked out a breath of laughter, then making a sorry excuse for it as he _coughed_ into his sleeve in a truly saddening attempt to disguise it.

Satine wanted to glare at him, but to her disappointment, she didn’t contain the energy.

“Don’t we have water here, Master?” Obi-Wan then asked insistently, covering for the large gap of silence that had just occurred. Still, the duchess caught the gleam of amusement lingering within the depths of his sea green eyes and frowned.

“I’m afraid we nearly drank it all after collecting the fruit,” Qui-Gon informed him.

“Well, I’ll go, then,” the boy stated, rising to his feet as well. “Stay here and rest, Master. We already discussed this.”

“You know I don’t like the idea of you wandering out there alone in the dark, Padawan,” Qui-Gon replied firmly. “Anyone could be out there, watching. And then there’s the animals too, like the crocodile that almost succeeded in killing you? I don’t think so.”

“So you don’t deem me capable of protecting myself?” Obi-Wan challenged, tightly crossing his arms over his chest. 

“That’s not what I said—“

“It sure came _out_ that way.”

 _Not good,_ Satine thought inwardly with a wince.

“I’d feel much more comfortable knowing that you are here along with the duchess, keeping her safe.” Qui-Gon placed a comforting hand atop the boy’s shoulder—a peace offering, Satine knew. It seemed to work, as Obi-Wan’s rim-rod posture and clenched jaw gradually began to ease within moments. “Please...just respect my decision, Padawan.”

Another beat of silence, and then the boy relented with a tired sigh, having a seat back down on the ground next to the duchess, although he didn’t seem very thrilled about it. “Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head—seemingly in adoration, the duchess observed—and let a small smile creep up his lips. “Thank you, Obi-Wan,” he said quietly, making his way over to the mouth of the cave, suddenly turning to face the two youths a final time. “I won’t be long, I promise. Make sure the duchess is taken care of, alright?”

“You don’t want your cloak?” Satine asked, already holding it out toward him. “It’s quite chilly.”

“I think we both know that you need it more than I do,” Qui-Gon replied teasingly. And with that, he turned on his heel, his form growing smaller and smaller until it dissolved within the darkness of the night, leaving the young duchess and Jedi in the large cave with no one but each other to keep them company.

Satine turned to face Obi-Wan, who was staring at the calm flames of the fire intently, sapphire blue eyes bright and a bit narrowed, although they were also unfocused, as if he were deep in thought. Watching him carefully, the duchess allowed him to ponder for a few minutes in silence, waiting for him to recollect himself. When he continued to remain in his mindless state, she decided she couldn’t stand it any longer and loudly cleared her throat, resulting in the boy’s head to jerk her way in mild alarm. 

“Wha—“ he began confusedly, only to catch her small, amused smile and quickly caught the memo. “ _Ah._ Sorry about that.”

“Something seems to be on your mind,” Satine observed thoughtfully.

“Not at all,” Obi-Wan replied mildly.

“I watched you zone out for a good five _agonizingly-long_ minutes,” she deadpanned, inwardly celebrating her victory when the boy next to her stiffened involuntarily. “So, unless I just witnessed you suffering through an absence seizure, you’re clearly thinking about something.”

Obi-Wan simply stared at her, lips slightly parted and one brow cocked up in disbelief. “An _absence_ seizure, Satine? Really?”

“Then...perhaps you were sleeping with your eyes open,” she tried again. When the boy’s expression morphed into one of even more puzzlement, she added lightly, “Oh, believe me, it’s strange, but it can happen. Although, I suppose, the cases happen to be very rare—“

“Satine.” Obi-Wan held a hand up, and she paused. Another beat of silence passed, and then he asked hesitantly, “ _What_ are you talking about?”

She felt herself flush, subtly running a hand down one side of her face in an attempt to hide it. “Just trying to cheer you up,” she claimed quietly with another suppressed smile. “Because something is definitely bothering you.”

“It’s nothing.” The boy gave a dismissive wave of his hand, although Satine didn’t buy the act for even a moment. “I’m just thinking about what we’re going to eat now that those grapefruits don’t sit well with your stomach.”

 _Right,_ the duchess thought dryly.

Then, before she could stop herself, she began speaking. “I’m sure it’s not that Qui-Gon doesn’t trust you or that he doesn’t deem you capable…I suppose it’s just—well, it would _seem_ that he’s...being protective over you.”

Obi-Wan looked at her for another long moment, the expression lingering in his eyes an unreadable one. That _stare_ he was giving her—Satine’s heart thrummed wildly against her chest at its intensity, a slight shiver creeping up her spine as well and tried to compose herself, for she didn’t have a clue as to why she was reacting this way. 

Finally, the boy’s gaze left her own and drifted to his twiddling thumbs. He let out a long, weary sigh, allowing his eyes to drift closed for a brief moment, and this time, Satine found herself to be the one simply studying him when his voice suddenly tore her away from her musings.

“He needn’t be protective over me.” Obi-Wan’s eyes were open again, fixed on the fire again. “He really _shouldn’t_ be. As his Padawan, it is my duty to serve and protect him at all costs.”

“I believe it may be the other way around,” Satine replied carefully, slowly. “You’re his student, Obi-Wan, and it is _his_ duty to take you under his wing while teaching you everything he knows and to _protect_ you. To keep you safe. That’s what any good master would do, is it not?”

“Of course, but doesn’t a certain time come where the teacher must simply let go and allow his protégé the opportunity to _prove_ himself?” 

Satine paused, soaking the question in for all its worth. “There does.”

Obi-Wan turned to face her, expression schooled into one thoughtfulness. “And don’t you think I’m at the age where my master should begin allowing me that opportunity?”

“Oh, come now,” Satine insisted with a teasing smile. “Qui-Gon has given you _many_ opportunities of independence during this mission. Surely you’re not sulking because of _one_ time where he wouldn’t allow you out after dark.”

Obi-Wan stared at her pointedly, his face anything but humorous. “I’m _seventeen_ , Satine,” he informed her dryly.

“Still quite young for a Jedi, if I do say so myself,” she replied casually, her smile never leaving her face. To her delight, the boy returned it, even as small and reserved as it was.

“Says the girl who happens to be the exact same age and just _happens_ to rule an entire kingdom by herself,” he quipped smartly.

“Well...I’m afraid that isn’t the case at the current moment.” Satine fixed Obi-Wan with another small smile, although this one felt much more strained. She sensed that the boy caught it as well, the slight furrow of his brow the only indication of his concern. “Instead, I’m out here,” she continued with a slight laugh—and a _weak_ one, at that, “hiding and running for my life, when in reality, I should be back on Mandalore protecting my people.”

There was silence after that, the duchess suddenly finding it very difficult to keep her eyes from misting over. Stars’, what had once been a lighthearted exchange had unexpectedly transformed into an empty, hollow one instead. Berating herself for ruining it, Satine uttered out an apology before the quietude could last any longer.

“I’m sorry,” she began sheepishly. “That was uncalled for, burdening you with that, Obi-Wan. We can talk about something else,” she added hurriedly along with another laugh—this one somehow even coming across as more forced. “I’m sure you don’t—“

“No,” Obi-Wan cut in rather quickly, if a bit bluntly. At Satine’s startled look, he appeared a bit flustered and allowed his gaze to drift down to his lap. “You don’t need to apologize,” he informed her quietly, although he didn’t look up at her again. “I don’t mind.”

Another pause, and then the duchess was distractedly running her hands through her blonde hair, unsure of what else to do. A quick glance at the boy told her he was fiddling absentmindedly with his Padawan braid, eyes unfocused as they lingered on the flames of the fire.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like for you,” he suddenly said.

Satine turned to face him, sky blue eyes a bit wide without really being aware of it. A chill tore down her spine before she could control herself, and she blushed in embarrassment, desperately hoping Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed. To her relief, it didn’t appear like he did, his gaze still fixed on the fire but unseeing in reality.

She didn’t really know what to say.

“You are strong,” the boy continued slowly, cautiously. He hesitantly tilted his head to face her, and Satine found herself feeling more on edge than she had in a long time. “You have to realize that, don’t you?”

“I—“ She stuttered uselessly, brain coming up short of other words to say, “it’s a bit hard for me to believe that.” _There._ A proper sentence. Stars’, why did she always become so flustered when the boy offered her compliments? It was infuriating. “Especially when I’m able to do nothing but run further and further away from them. My _people_.”

“That wasn’t your choice, you know,” Obi-Wan said.

“And yet it continues to drive me more and more insane the longer I think about it.”

“We’ll go back to them eventually. It will just take some time.”

Satine nodded numbly. As true as Obi-Wan’s words in fact really were, they didn’t make her feel better in the slightest. She huddled a bit deeper into the three cloaks currently enveloping her, closing her eyes for a long moment. A wave of weariness washed over, leaving her a bit drained. Talking about this particular subject...it brought her more pain and guilt than she ever thought she was capable of holding. 

“Satine?”

She reopened her eyes, caught Obi-Wan’s worried gaze.

“Are you alright?”

A taut nod of her head. Her stomach was beginning to hurt again.

“I don’t believe you,” the boy told her quietly, his tone laced with gentleness.

“I’m fine,” Satine said in response, her voice coming off a bit more hostile than she would have liked. Obi-Wan watched her silently, the slight flinch he gave the only indication of his hurt, but the duchess caught it. A stab of guilt penetrated through her chest at this realization; what was _wrong_ with her _?_

Another chill shot down her spine, blood freezing at the sensation. Teeth chattering, Satine closed her eyes again, hands clamping over her stomach in an attempt to ease her discomfort. It didn’t help one bit.

Everything was going wrong.

Suddenly she felt the gentle weight of two warm hands on her shoulders.

Blinking her eyes open, Satine nearly startled at the sight of Obi-Wan kneeling in front of her, his face only mere inches away from hers. This close, she could make out every single detail of his features, but what caught her attention the most were his eyes; she had never been completely certain of what color they were—after all, they seemed to change frequently depending on the angle of the light—but now, she observed that they were filled with an astonishing mix of blue, green, and grey all together. The grey appeared to be the dominant color at the moment, outshining the others by far, but still...Satine wasn’t sure she had ever seen a pair of eyes as unique as Obi-Wan’s.

They were _beautiful—_

“You’re _freezing_ ,” the boy said aloud, mild alarm arising within his voice. When Satine didn’t reply, he asked in bewilderment, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She looked down ashamedly. Embarrassment flooded her entire body. Here, was a young, powerful Jedi kneeling before her, providing her security and comfort, not even a bit cold in the _least_ —and she, supposedly the regal and mighty Duchess Satine of Mandalore, was doing everything in her power to keep from shaking in her boots because she had a _chill_. 

_Pathetic._

“I didn’t want to impose,” she found herself replying. No, _mumbling_.

A tense pause, and then: “You could never be an imposition, Duchess.”

Her heart skipped a beat. 

“We need to warm you up.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. One unimpressed quirk of the boy’s brow indicated that there was no way possible that he believed her. And yet, she continued anyway. “The fire will start doing its job soon, Obi-Wan. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Satine,” the boy began patiently, “we’ve been sitting in front of the fire for nearly an hour, you’re completely buried in cloaks and _still_ somehow freezing. Clearly nothing is working.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Satine fixed him with a steady gaze.

That seemed to quiet Obi-Wan fairly quickly. He released his hold of her shoulders, rose to his feet and added a few more logs to the fire in hopes to make it bigger. It was a success, but Satine still trembled uncontrollably. She hated every moment of it. Her eyes followed Obi-Wan as he paced back and forth and continued to maintain the fire to a safe size, occasionally throwing in another log or two to increase it, and she rapidly observed that while he was giving off the impressed of appearing preoccupied, the wheels inside his head were evidently spinning.

Suddenly he stopped.

Satine looked up at him expectantly, sure that he was about to speak.

And _how_ she was mistaken.

The boy was standing perfectly still in the same position, hands folded neatly behind his back when a flash of hesitation flickered on his features. It was so brief the duchess almost missed it, and before she could process the strange expression, he was undoing his tunic, leaving the complete half of his upper-body exposed before she could even blink in disbelief.

Obi-Wan made his way toward her rather quickly after that. He knelt back down in front of her, gently pushing back the cloaks wrapped around her frame and held his tunic out for her to take. At her widened eyes, his lips gave a quick twitch before he was sliding it onto her body, his touch nothing but tender.

“This will do it, I believe,” he murmured busily, gesturing for Satine to extend her arm, which she numbly complied as he slipped up the sleeve and then followed to do the same with the other. It took her a few moments to find herself within the shock, and when she finally did, she hoped she didn’t sound as flustered as she felt.

“Obi-Wan, no—“ she hastily cut herself off before trying again. “I can’t let you do this—“

“Yes you can,” he replied, sounding nothing but calm; although when Satine attempted to meet his gaze, she observed that he seemed to be doing an incredible job in making sure their eyes never once met. “It will help you, I promise.”

“This isn’t _right_ , Obi-Wan. _You’ll_ be the one to freeze next—“

“I assure you I am perfectly fine, Duchess,” the boy answered, scooping the cloaks off the ground and enshrouding her with them yet again. And even as embarrassed as she was, Satine couldn’t help her soft sigh at the amount of warmth she was now enveloped in; Obi-Wan’s tunic really _had_ done the trick.

“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly.

This time, the boy met her gaze, if only for the briefest moment before they were drifting downward. “Absolutely,” he confirmed simply.

Something within Satine’s chest melted. She tilted her head slightly to the side, still a bit in disbelief over what had just transpired. When Obi-Wan looked up again, blue-grey eyes filled with an expression she deciphered as unreadable, he asked, “What is it?”

Satine laughed quietly, shaking her head in amusement. “Thank you,” she said softly, gesturing to the cream-colored tunic and dark cloaks wrapped firmly around her frame with a smile. “This really did wonders; I feel more warm now than I have in a long time.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan gave a shallow dip of his head, and the duchess noticed the smallest of his own smiles dancing across his lips. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I am,” Satine confirmed. “Now I just might be able to get some sleep.”

“Good.” The boy’s expression brightened a bit more after hearing this. Then, he stood, resumed pacing across from her on the opposite side of the fire, perhaps waiting for his master to return—and all the while, Satine found herself studying him, eyes hurriedly drifting away every time he looked somewhat in her direction. She was getting better at that.

The task of tearing her eyes from the sight that was his chest was nearly an impossible one, the young duchess soon discovered; after taking one look at both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan the moment she had met them and they had relieved themselves of their cloaks, she had instantly deemed the pair as extremely athletic, even through all the layers of the their stuffy Jedi robes; but still, as she stared at the teenage boy pacing before her, Satine couldn’t help the awe that overtook her at his physique.

It was...impeccable.

He was the exact right amount of muscular: not too ripped or shredded, but not too lean and lanky either. His abs were perfectly sculpted, and his arms were incredibly toned and well-built, his biceps giving off the appearance of being as firm as stone. Satine’s eyes expertly darted away when Obi-Wan turned his head in her direction once again, and when his own gaze drifted away, she resumed back to her observing without a second thought.

His shoulders were broad and strong, and—

Satine nearly slapped herself silly when she finally came to her senses. _What_ in the name of all good things in the galaxy was she doing? 

“Still warm?” Obi-Wan asked her.

The duchess rubbed a hand over her face wearily, desperately attempting to rid her previous thoughts from her mind but to no avail. “Nothing but,” she replied, then quietly adding, “I couldn’t be more grateful.”

The boy ceased his pacing, paused to give her a soft smile. “I’m just glad you’re warm.”

Another beat of silence.

“Well,” Satine said, “I’d best get some rest.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Indeed,” she mused. Then, slowly, she asked, “And you’re sure you’re fine without your tunic?”

“I promise, Satine. You need it more than I do.”

“Well...do let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was a treat!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and reviews are always welcome! Happy Reading!


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